Chapter 102
For a few scant seconds, the neon hexagonal red square of a stop sign held my full attention. There was nothing significant about the sign itself. What was curious was my reaction to it. Id squeezed my brakes tightly to avoid going over the white line, despite the many blown lights, ignored signs and signal-less lane changes Id made on my way here.
But for some reason, just on the cusp of reaching downtown proper, my muscle memory had kicked in. Maybe it was subconscious experience. I knew this particular intersection was busy. What was flabbergasting was how that instinct had overridden everything Id just seen.
Moments ago, Id passed a cluster of winged monkeys straight out of The Wizard of Oz, shrieking and battering their chests as they attempted to break into a childrens clothing boutique.
In the far background, beyond a veil of buildings, was a giant lizard. It was shielding its face with dark clawed hands, sparks streaming off its skin, taking the full rata-tat-tat brunt of a deployed .50 caliber machine gun that someone apparently had the foresight to not only own, but haul and set-up on the roof of a nearby apartment.
And just beyond the stop sign, an honest-to-god griffin was in the process of eating a User. The only way I knew he was a User was the gear and a heavy crossbow abandoned at his bloodied feet. It wasnt going particularly well for the griffin. For the User either, but he was already dead, which in this case seemed more blessing than curse. The griffin, having already consumed the Users head and hands, seemed to be trying to stretch and rip the armor in something akin to a beef jerky approach, and was visibly frustrated at the lack of success.
In the most abstract way, it was almost relatable. nove(l)bi(n.)com
That was good news. Not great, on the off-chance the attention was stoking enmity between me and the team Id taken, but good nonetheless.
Great. I scowled, rethinking my plan. Either we were competing against a group of Users for what remained, or we were up against monsters capable of slaughtering a group of Users, which was almost as bad.
Thanks for the heads-up. Actually I was seconds away from disengaging with the man when the cathedral doors swung open.
A thick black smoke emitted from the double doors, pouring down the stairway.
RUN
I would have, if my legs hadnt locked up. I caught myself on the concrete barrier and drew my crossbow, aiming it up the stairs. Chills went up and down my spine as a figure emerged from the smoke. His armor was sleek, almost futuristic, an amalgam of dark and red that added very little bulk. It was like the light itself didnt touch him, rather warped around him, leaving him cloaked in shadow. The face-mask of his helmet was darkened chrome, with two rectangular eye holes that were black and empty.
He held a cylindrical black duffel over his shoulder and was otherwise unarmed. When he saw the two of us, he stopped. The eye slits in his mask glowed red briefly.
Get the fuck out. Now.
had lost all of its usual bravado. It sounded panicked, terrified.
It was only then that I noticed that the duffel bag, despite being casually thrown over the Users shoulder, was nearly touching the ground. He was short. A full foot shorter than me, if not more, a fact that did nothing to diminish the sheer dread his presence invoked.
Seemingly unimpressed, the User made a slow descent down the opposing side of the stairs, separated from us by a railing. My skin crawled as he passed, every instinct, every fiber of my being screaming for me to run, to get clear.
Is is there anything left in there?
On the third step from the bottom, the User stopped.
I cringed the moment the voice cut through. It was Mantle who asked. He licked his lips nervously, and was clearly also regretting his question.
The replying voice was warped, modulated. Theres probably more. Dont mind the mess.
He continued down the stairs, looking back and forth three times before he crossed the street. My heart climbed into my throat. I looked back at the cathedral door. The dark smoke had dissipated. Even in the poor lighting, there was a line of visible corpses that led into the cathedral proper.
It was such a small thing. My brother was careful in many ways, but he was always in a rush. Eventually, there was an accident. The hatchbacks driver saw him running across the street too late. If the driver hadnt slammed on his brakes the way he had, Ellison probably wouldnt have made it. Lost his life, instead getting off with the broken ribs and a shattered left arm.
But it was a bad break. Both in damage, and the amount of money we had to scrounge up to pay for the medical bills after. Hed internalized that experience.
And in something of an overcorrection, every time he crossed the street? He always checked three times.
