The Unfinished World (The Armor of God Book 2)

by Diego Valenzuela

  At least he appreciated walking behind the small train carrying the citizens; it made him feel more confident in their safety.

  There were children looking up at him from the back of the cart. None of them seemed afraid of the Creux, instead recognizing him as their protector.

  Ezra liked the feeling; in Clairvert he had been seen as a sickness that only brought with it death. It was nice to feel appreciated, because his was not an easy job, and it had only gotten more difficult.

  Which was why he appreciated the peace, and the silence. He never imagined a walk through the desert at night would make him feel so much better.

  Maybe it was that he had finally gotten away from the Asili. They had spent too long too close to it, and he knew it had begun to affect him like Garros or Erin. He didn't understand how the city of Clairvert could have existed for decades so close to the heart of evil; the Caduceus and its mad inhabitants—

  . . . all of them are gone now . . .

  —suddenly made a lot more sense.

  He was still close to Nandi's core, but he had grown used to its power, which was significantly less intense than the Asili. If it affected him, it wasn’t to a worrisome capacity.

  Indeed, his heart was at peace.

  Ezra wished he could look at the carts close enough to recognize Elena, just to make sure she was there. Many times before she had disappeared, and it made him anxious. It was impossible to explain, even to himself, but he had fallen for her.

  Fallen for her lie, snarled the Minotaur.

  Led by Jade Arjuna's light, they continued their way through the desert, and he wondered if that place where they would settle the last citizens of Clairvert could become the last settlement of humankind, before returning to the world that gave them birth.

  ф

  He was gone.

  Dr. Lance Mustang, who had been chosen to work in Zenith thanks to his brilliant mind and impressive understanding of both the Laani and the Creux, had finally lost his mind to the very object of his study, that to which he had dedicated his life.

  Standing where the doctor once stood, on a puddle of the man’s blood shed by the transformation, was a Trooper-type Fleck that was not fully formed. It was a living nightmare, a horrible monstrosity that hadn’t quite left all of its human shape behind, making it all the more terrifying to see.

  It was not an animalistic creature, or at least she couldn’t identify it as such. Its arms were arms long and thick, legs short and stubby but indubitably powerful. His skin had peeled like an old cloth as the hardening flesh of the man’s bone and muscle grew but it didn’t. A whole other mouth had emerged from his, snapping his human jaw open, replacing it with a long and toothless muzzle. His eyes had become yellow, and all the hair in his body had fallen. Hands and feet still resembled a human’s, but had grown several times their size, and looked as though they had become all bone.

  It was a cruel disease, and Vivian was only thankful that it hadn’t been her who had succumbed to it. It made her sick to think that billions of human beings and animals had gone through the painful, grotesque transformation. Only to be later absorbed into its source. Lys.

  The thing had become monstrous in both size and shape, but at least not yet aggressive. It still cowered in the corner of the massive circular room as though waiting for punishment, expecting to be hurt.

  Though Vivian had actively avoided looking at the man’s degradation, Felix had not removed his eyes from it, fully expecting it to grow murderous at any moment.

  Now, he stood in front of her, shielding her from the monster.

  She appreciated his intention to protect her, but both knew that if the thing that once was Dr. Mustang decided to kill them, his protection would do no good; it was now many times larger and stronger than Felix.

  Vivian had come to one sudden and painful realization: Felix was right; Tessa was only torturing them by giving them any kind of hope, and would not actually come back for them.

  “I had never seen it,” he whispered, red eyes still on the creature. It was as though his lungs had become weak, not able to hold enough air to speak. Neither of them had had anything to drink or eat for at least a day. “Not this close.”

  “We need to get out of here,” said Vivian.

  “I don’t know if we can. Poole—I really think this might be how it goes for us,” he said.

  Vivian looked at the monster, then at the walls, which both had studied many, many times already, looking for a way out. The catwalk and observation deck were at least twenty feet above. It was impossible to climb up by hand, and they had nothing to use as a tool.

  She sat down, hugged her bent knees and put her head down. “I think you’re right. This is it, huh?”

  Felix sat down next to her, finally giving up the pretense of protecting her. She thought she heard him chuckle. “Better this way, than that way. You were very brave, Poole. I’m glad I got to know you better.”

  She grabbed his hand and nodded.

  Ever since the moment when Ezra Blanchard and the others had left her behind, she knew that she had lived her life the wrong way: pretending to be good at loneliness, not needing anyone, pushing people away. Now, she recognized her mistake, and was happy that after all, she would not die alone as she had feared.

  Die young in here, or old out there.

  She sighed, laughed, then cried, thinking of Director Blanchard, General Adams, Rebecca, Jed.

  At some point, she had fallen asleep, and woke from several nightmares in which she died at the hands of the creature.

  One such time, she woke to the sound of Felix’s scream, telling her to wake up. She wished he hadn’t woken up. It might have been easier if it had killed her in her sleep.

  When she opened her eyes, an even bigger creature was standing in front of her. All remnants of Dr. Mustang’s features were gone from its face and body. Now, it was just another Fleck, even if it was significantly smaller than the other she had battled under the suit of Rose Xibalba.

  The creature’s eyes—forward-looking, the eyes of a predator—were fixed on her, his breath smelled like a rotting corpse.

  It roared at Vivian and turned around, slamming its huge body against the walls and making the whole place shake. It roared again, but she couldn’t hear—the first such sound had left a strong ringing in her ear.

  The creature slammed its body against the walls again. Then did it again and again, trying to break free by force.

  “Poole!” Felix said, pointing upward. “Poole, look!”

  The creature’s rams had begun to damage the entire structure; she could see a small gap between two iron sheets—it was something she might be able to hang on to.

  A slight bit of hope returned when Felix picked her up. “Go, go!”

  Ignoring the creature, which still attempted to destroy the entire room by throwing his weight against it, Felix positioned himself in a crouching position. Vivian put her foot on his back, then his shoulders. Weakened by hunger, it wasn’t easy for Felix to stand to his full height, bringing Vivian close enough to grab on to the twisted steel.

  She grabbed onto it.

  “Hold on!” Felix said.

  The monster turned to them and roared.

  Felix left Vivian hanging for a moment, and she could feel the edges of the steel sheet cutting through the skin of her fingers. He put his hands under her feet and pushed her up using the strength in his shoulders, bringing her higher. High enough to put the tip of her foot on another small opening between the sheets of steel.

  The monster roared again and charged against Felix like a bull.

  “Vivian!” Felix yelled and leapt to the side. The monster missed him and crashed against the wall. The structure shook and she lost her grip.

  Vivian fell backwards screaming, and landed shoulder first on the monster’s back. It growled and she rolled off, hitting the floor with a thud.

  She was face-down on the dirt when she felt pressure on her back, then her sides and stom
ach. Vivian could barely breathe as the monster picked her up with one massive hand and held her before its hideous face.

  “Please—Dr. Mustang . . .” she said, catching what little air she could to speak. “Lance.”

  The monster looked at her for a moment, as though it recognized her.

  It looked up, then back at her.

  She felt pain on her neck, heard a crack inside her skull. Whiplash.

  Then suddenly there was wind. She was airborne. Vivian was flying through the air like a rag doll. She waited for the ground or a wall to rush to meet and crush her. She knew her neck was already broken.

  With eyes closed, Vivian felt the floor finally hit her, but it was not the crushing force she expected. She opened her eyes, and it took her a moment to realize that she was not inside the pit anymore.

  In one last glimmer of humanity, whatever remained of Dr. Mustang in that monster had used its size and strength to throw her up to the catwalk.

  “Poole—Vivian! Vivian are you all right? Poole!”

  She sat up, dizzied and disoriented. Vivian crawled to the edge of the catwalk and looked down. Felix had raised his fists as though they could cause any damage, his eyes bouncing between her and the creature, which was approaching him in a hunter’s stance: shoulders tensed, neck down, head at Felix’s eye-level.

  “Poole!”

  “I’m all right!” she said and held her neck.

  “Get this goddamn thing away from me!” he said and threw a punch at the creature’s snout when it got too close. It growled in response. “Open the gates!”

  Vivian looked around: almost halfway around the circular catwalk, she saw the observation deck. She ran there, her feet making a loud clanking noise on the steel platform.

  She opened the door to the small room, breathing heavily. There were several consoles and even more screens, all of them dead. She didn’t know how to operate any of this equipment, and couldn’t figure it out under this much pressure. She could see that the creature did not have the same intentions for Felix as it had for her.

  There had to be a way to purge the pit—she knew the last Subject Edward had made its way out to the wastelands.

  Vivian found a large lever and pulled. It was a master switch. The screens came alive, all displaying the words NO DATA in thick red letters. Vivian browsed the entire console, searching for the right button or screen and trying to ignore Felix’s frantic screams, hoping to concentrate.

  There was nothing.

  She pressed random buttons; none appeared to do anything.

  Suddenly she saw movement to her left. The door back to the labs slid open and Tessa walked onto the catwalk, looked down at the pit. It was the first time in her life that Vivian saw Tessa look anything except calm.

  Tessa yelled something Vivian couldn’t quite hear and looked towards the observation deck. Vivian instinctively ducked to avoid Tessa’s detection.

  After a moment, she raised her head . . .

  . . . and met Tessa’s face at the other side of the glass.

  She didn’t move, and Tessa started searching around the window, trying to look in. The glass was tinted, making it impossible to look inside. Tessa tried the door, which was miraculously locked.

  “Drat,” she heard her say.

  Tessa turned around and began walking away. She walked past the door, circling around the catwalk to the other side of the observation deck, from where Vivian had entered.

  Vivian ran to close the door.

  It was stuck—it wouldn’t close.

  “No,” she said, trying to apply as much strength as she could, but like Felix she had grown weak. Tessa reached behind her and drew a pistol as she walked. The door still wouldn’t close.

  “Tessa!” came another voice.

  Tessa stopped in her tracks, just one quarter of the way around the catwalk. Heath appeared from the door to the labs. “Tessa! Oh my god—my god, Tessa, what did you do!”

  Vivian crouched under the window, covered her mouth.

  She could hear Felix screaming profanities, insulting Tessa and Heath.

  “She’s dead!” he screamed at them. “You killed her! You put us here and this thing ate her alive, tore her to goddamn pieces! Tessa! How could you do this to us—we were your brothers!”

  “Tessa, what did you do!” Heath screamed.

  “No, this was not supposed to happen!” Tessa screamed back. She sounded afraid, almost guilty, as though she had awoken from a fugue to see all the evil deeds for which she was accountable. “This is not what I planned!”

  “No, this was not your plan! Not yours! Mine! Mizrahi’s! Not yours!”

  Tessa walked towards Heath, gun in hand, still looking down and hoping to see Vivian. The pool of Mustang’s blood sold Felix’s act.

  Someone else stepped into the room from the laboratories.

  Director Blanchard.

  Vivian was still covering her mouth, hoping not to make a sound, but she almost screamed. Director Blanchard had no business being there; she had to be in Roue, safely away from Heath and Tessa.

  “Felix!” the director screamed after looking down at Subject Edward’s pit. “Heath, what’s happening here—why did you call me? Tessa? No, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you leave! Where’s Jed—where’s Vivian?”

  She stopped when she saw the gun in Tessa’s hand.

  “Why did you call me here, you disgusting rat?” Director Blanchard said and reached for her back pocket. She drew her own pistol, pointed it straight at Ronald Heath’s head. “What were you going to do?”

  “I only wanted to talk!” he said, hands raised.

  Seeing Heath in danger, Tessa pointed her gun at the director. Her hands were shaking.

  “It was Tessa!” Felix yelled from below. “She put us down here, turned Dr. Mustang into that thing! Director, she killed Jed. She killed Barnes and Covington! Kill her, Director, shoot her! Kill her!”

  The director slowly turned the muzzle of her pistol towards Tessa, and began to cry; Vivian could hear it in her voice. “Why do you make me do this, Ronald? Why do you want us to die like this? There has to be a part of you who believes we can still win.”

  “But we can’t win!” Ronald said. “This is over, Tara! You have a place in the Third World, you know that, but you need to help us—just put your gun down. It’s not too late.”

  “Tessa—Tessa, why?” asked Tara.

  “You know why, Director,” Tessa said and put her gun down. “You know what I am—you know I’m not going to see the Third World. I’m leaving this place with my brother and my sister. We will not destroy you when we rise.”

  “What?” said Tara. “Your brother and sister—is that what he told you?”

  “Director, don’t do anything stupid. Do what Ronald says: put your gun down and help us—you know I can’t die,” she said, confident in her invulnerability. “You know you can’t kill one of the children. You can’t stop—”

  Vivian screamed when she heard the sound of a gunshot.

  There was a look of surprise and confusion in Tessa’s eyes when blood began to pour from the hole in her forehead, down her nose, and onto the floor. She fell on her knees and then backward, dead.

  Realizing what the director had done, Heath screamed in horror.

  The director put down the gun. She was crying.

  “No!” Ronald screamed and then turned towards the director. “How could you do that—you bitch! You bitch!”

  The man leapt at the director like an enraged animal, bringing her down to her back. The impact made her let go of the pistol, and it rolled behind her.

  “You’re not taking this from me!” He snarled. “I’m gonna see the Third World and you’re not taking it away from me!”

  Heath had become an animal. His face was red, eyes bulging. He had put his hands around Tara’s neck, had begun to squeeze.

  When Vivian saw the director’s eyes roll back, tongue sticking out gasping for air, Vivian opened the door and step
ped onto the catwalk. All her emotions, thoughts, and movements, were a blur—as though something else was controlling her like she had once controlled Rose Xibalba.

  Taking cues from her lonely training in the military base, Vivian grabbed the pistol, pointed it at her target, and pulled the trigger.

  Heath’s grip on the director’s neck loosened, and he got up. A spot of blood on his chest grew in size. He clutched at it and looked at Vivian, frowning like he just resented her for taking the shot.

  The man toppled to the side and fell down to the pit.

  Vivian had to turn away when she saw the Fleck below grab the corpse, and only heard the horrifying sounds of the man’s body falling prey to the monster’s vicious strength and angry hatred.

  “Vivian,” whispered the director, holding her neck, taking the first full breaths of air through a damaged trachea.

  “Open the goddamn gates!” yelled Felix from the pit, turning away from the grisly scene. “Open the gates! Now!”

  The director lost no time and ran into the observation deck just as the creature, mouth and hands wet with blood, began to approach Felix. Vivian looked in to see Tara begin to operate the consoles, mostly using the computer’s touch-screen to input commands Vivian would’ve never found by herself.

  There was a loud noise that startled the creature beneath. It turned and growled as a whole segment of the floor began to slant downward, creating an opening into a dark tunnel.

  The director’s hands moved about the console still, pressing buttons and touching screens. She coughed as though she’d spit out her lungs.

  The creature that was Dr. Mustang ran off and into the darkness of the tunnel, seeing it as its only chance at freedom. The door closed behind it, locking it below, away from Felix.

  Vivian could see the tunnel through one of the screens—the monster ran past a camera that showed the scene in the dark. It stopped, looking for the way out of the darkness. It was trapped again.

  “Is this really Dr. Mustang?” Tara said, voice still hoarse.