Pain Bringer (The Constant War Book 2), page 25
Maybe he had a point? Maybe ending it was for the better? For starters, she wouldn’t have to tell him that the baby wasn’t his.
Easiest way to solve that problem.
But she didn’t want to end things. Especially not like that.
And there was a part of her that liked Wilkins’ notion of family, as corny as it was. Archaic and dated even, but it felt warm, welcoming. She wasn’t completely opposed to the idea of settling down. Of having a family.
But she wasn’t sure she was ready to settle down this very second. There was so much she still wanted to do. Parts of her career that felt unfinished.
Wilkins was watching her like a wounded animal watches a circling lion.
Fairhaven bit her lower lip. “So what happened on Sindarhe?”
“Don’t start—”
“I’m not. I believe you. You say nothing happened between you and Char, then nothing happened between you and Char. But I still want to know what happened over there.”
“Nothing.”
“You can tell me.”
“I am. Literally nothing happened. We investigated the missing engineers and found nothing. Everything looked normal. Except they were missing. Which, in and of itself is bizarre enough. That was it. That’s when Char said she could feel Sindarhe affecting her. Said it was like when we were on the station. Truth be told, I was feeling it a bit too. Was seeing things. She wanted to stay the night. I told her no. By the way, you can thank me. I told you, it’s only you that I want. You and our child. That’s it for me.”
Fairhaven waited. There was more Wilkins wasn’t telling her.
“Also Char went apeshit.”
“What? Char went apeshit?”
“She went crazy, ranting about needing to be safe. Next thing I know, Char is in the prototype beating the hell outta the Tigerclaws.”
“She attacked the Tigerclaws?”
“Yeah. Damn near killed me too.”
“How is she out here with us? How does command not know about this?”
“I covered best I could.”
“Why would you do that?”
Wilkins paused. “It’s not what you think. I just—I don’t want to be stuck back on Heaven. If the council knows what the presence of Sindarhe is doing to us, they’ll ground us for sure. It’s stupid, I know. Selfish even. But I just—I can’t go back to doing nothing. Being nothing.”
That much Fairhaven could understand. Could relate to. Oh how, she could relate.
Wilkins glanced toward the church entrance. “But everyone who was out there, they all saw it. Dr. Scott too. Saw how Char was.”
“Do they know about you?”
Wilkins shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“And the damage? You can’t hide that.”
“I think Einhorn is covering for her too. Fixed up the mecha. The prototype too. Didn’t say a word to brass. Gotta be, right?”
Fairhaven closed her eyes.
“So…” said Wilkins.
“So what?”
“What you’re feeling. Have you been, you know…”
“Oh.” Fairhaven hesitated. “I—”
She could lie. Tell him she felt perfectly normal. But the truth was she had felt off ever since they landed on Earth. And the closer they got to the church, the more intense it felt. She could blame it on the desiccated corpses in the pews. That was disgusting enough to churn anyone’s stomach. But she was fairly certain it was something more than that.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe I’m feeling it too.”
“You two ready?” Marcia Black stood behind them, peering through a pair of sporty crimson goggles.
How long had she been there?
How much had she heard?
Wilkins and Fairhaven exchanged a look.
Wilkins was the first to climb to his feet. He nodded in Marcia’s direction. “Yeah, we’re ready.” He offered a hand to Fairhaven, which she gladly took.
“They’re heading into the catacombs,” said Marcia. “They sent me to grab you two.”
Fairhaven bowled her way to the front. “Let’s not keep them waiting then, shall we?”
There was commotion at the dais as Fairhaven entered the church. Dr. Scott pointed, positioning several Marines on the far side of the altar into a semi-circle. Fairhaven followed tight on Marcia’s hip. Wilkins’ combat boots echoed loudly behind her.
But Fairhaven wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings. Instead, she was lost in thought.
It was hard to believe that Sindarhe could have an effect on her. Would she even notice what it was doing to her? Aboard the alien vessel, she hadn’t felt Sindarhe’s influence. Not in a tangible way. Only in hindsight, was she able to look back on her actions and understand that she had not been herself.
But in the moment, she had felt normal.
She had gotten mad. Upset even. At Wilkins. And Char. The presence of Sindarhe and those that worshiped it brought all her insecurities to the surface.
Wilkins and Char had been affected again. But they were literally standing on the surface of an Old God. That’s gotta do a number on the noggin. But here, they were thousands of quads away from Sindarhe and anything that had worshiped it.
“What’s the holdup?” asked Fairhaven.
Dr. Scott leaned back from the opening. “Waiting on you two.”
“And we’re here.”
“So you are.”
Fairhaven stomped forward and toed the edge of the opening. The Marines had dropped portable halogen lamps into the opening, illuminating the catacomb with a faint blue glow. Unlike the organic fleshy texture on the opening, the catacombs appeared manmade. Bricks and mortar.
Char skipped to the edge, picked up a line, and was about to clip in, when Fairhaven stuck out an arm and pushed her back like a small child.
“Yeah, I got this,” said Fairhaven.
“But—”
“Seniority, sweetheart. Take the rear.”
Char didn’t say a word. Instead, she looked like a little girl that was gonna tell Daddy about the mean old grownups picking on her.
Let her tattle.
Where was Daddy now?
Nowhere. That’s where.
Fairhaven caught Dr. Scott glancing at Wilkins with a raised brow. She ignored it. Shoving her weapon into Wilkins’ arms, she said, “Hold this,” picked up the rope, and rappelled into the catacombs.
She met solid ground underfoot and stomped twice to assure her footing. She flicked on her torch and shined it down the corridor. The walls were recessed, built from brick that had either been painted white at one time or were pale due to dust and decay. Large cubby holes were dug into the walls as far as she could see, most occupied by granite sarcophagi. Support pillars with intricately ornate faces braced either side of the inlets.
“All clear,” she yelled.
Wilkins rappelled down to her side. He unslung her rifle from his shoulder and offered it to her. “Not that you need it, but you know, in case.”
Fairhaven smiled. “Right. In case, you big softy.”
Wilkins picked up one of the halogen lamps and dragged it deeper into the catacombs, illuminating a larger landing area for the rest of the party.
A few moments later, Marcia rappelled in, landing behind Fairhaven. Her presence wasn’t exactly a surprise, but Fairhaven thought Dr. Scott would be next to join them. Instead, Marcia hit the bricks, and immediately moved past Wilkins, disappearing into darkness.
Overhead, Dr. Scott dangled, cautiously lowering himself. Char jumped off the edge, flying past him, barely slowing herself on her way down.
“Beat ya!” she said as she hit the ground. She grabbed the tail-end of his line, helping steady his descent.
Slow by slow, Dr. Scott inched downward.
“C’mon, ya old fart. I wanna see what’s down here sometime this century.”
“It’s not a race.”
“That’s what losers say.” Char whipped the line taut. Dr. Scott slipped down half a meter. He clasped his hand on the line, halting his downward momentum.
“That’s not funny. Someone could get hurt.”
Char whipped the tail of the line, sending a rolling wave up that slapped Dr. Scott in the butt.
“Hey! By someone, I mean me.”
Fairhaven gritted her teeth, watching their exchange.
Was Char going to be like this the whole time?
Something about their interaction didn’t sit right with her. Dr. Scott didn’t seem as annoyed by Char’s antics as she thought he should be. Rather, he seemed engaged by her whole shtick.
Fairhaven whispered to Wilkins. “There something going on between those two?”
Wilkins stifled laughter. “Don’t ask. Way too much to explain. Let’s just call it Char being Char.”
“Right. Char being Char.”
As Dr. Scott reached solid ground and unclipped from his line, four Marines dropped in behind him, fanning out and securing a perimeter inside the small rotunda. The remaining two Marines stayed topside, guarding the entrance.
Fairhaven and Wilkins each grabbed a halogen lamp. Fairhaven took point, leading the group deeper into the catacombs. The entry tapered into a narrow hallway. Fairhaven held her halogen lamp up, casting long shadows toward the end of the corridor. It dead-ended into a T-intersection.
Footsteps followed behind her, a click-clack echo, the steady march of those with her. Occasionally, Dr. Scott’s scanner beeped. He mumbled to himself about the readings.
Fairhaven stopped at the end. The left and right paths looked identical, both giving way to narrow corridors lined with recessed inlets, many holding coffins and sarcophagi.
“Which way?”
Dr. Scott pricked his eyes up from the scanner and nodded toward the right corridor. “The signal is coming from there.”
Light from Fairhaven’s halogen lamp fell far short of the corridor’s end, leaving it engulfed in darkness. There were no forks or outlets she could see, or other means of escape. Just one long stretch of dusty brick and mortar ending in darkness.
Wilkins was tight on her heel, halfway down the corridor, when a loud thud echoed behind her. Startled, Fairhaven spun.
Half-hidden in one of the alcoves, Char poked at something with her rifle. Smashed stone was at her feet. She barely acknowledged the disturbance, with a casual ‘Oops’ delivered in a tone that seemed like her actions were anything but accidental.
The sarcophagus was damaged. A gaping hole in the stone lid exposed its contents. Char jabbed the skeletal remains with the barrel of her rifle. “What’s this?”
Marcia had been the first to Char’s side, curious and grateful for the opportunity to observe things she herself would not touch. She peered down her nose at the content. “That, my dear, was a person at one time.”
“Ew. And that?”
Char jabbed at a goldleaf wreath on its head that gave the impression of a blond toupee. Pearls arranged in floral patterns were set into it. Rubies and sapphires ringed its mouth.
Dr. Scott looked up from his scanner. “That would be a human skull.”
“Ew. But also, I meant why’s it all decorated? What is he? A king or something?”
Before either Dr. Scott or Marcia could answer, Fairhaven said, “Anyone ever tell you you’re annoying?”
Char paused like a squiddie caught in a phase scan. “You would be the first.”
“Somehow I doubt that.”
Wilkins laughed. Both Char and Fairhaven glared at him. He covered his mouth, or tried to through his pressure suit mask, then mimicked rubbing at a rough five o’clock shadow against the glass, and stared at the catacomb ceiling. Pointing at it, he mumbled something about the fresco.
They moved into a larger chamber. Chipped paint and color worn by time pockmarked the ceiling. Fairhaven tried to make out the muddied biblical scene depicted. It was some sort of barnyard scene. Faded stacks of hay and a handful of sheep surrounded three men on the right side of the room. At the chamber’s apex, a man and woman stood over a wooden cradle. A strange glow radiated from it.
Char skipped ahead of the group, cutting through the room and disappearing down another corridor.
“Hey!” Fairhaven shouted at Char, but she didn’t respond. “God damn it.”
She signaled the rest of the group to follow and dipped into the corridor, chasing after Char.
The corridor was darker than the previous ones they had encountered. It also had a downhill grade that bent to the left. Fairhaven kept a swift pace, but the curve prevented her from seeing more than several meters ahead. The others followed tight on her six.
How could Char be so irresponsible? She had no idea where the twists and turns of the catacombs led. None of them did. Yet she was racing through underground tunnels in pitch black like a kid on spring break.
Fairhaven skidded to a stop, nearly bowling over Char in the process.
She had stopped at the end of a blind corner.
Not out of kindness.
But because a large sealed door blocked her way.
The entire wall was a bronze dome, bisected down the middle. At a glance, it looked as if it could have been a vault door. In the dead center, a large emblem shaped like a lion’s head was encircled by intricately carved figureheads.
“You can’t just go running off,” said Fairhaven.
Char ran off toward the door and touched the underside of the lion’s head. It came up to her chest. She used one of the figureheads as a handhold, shimmied up the side, and pulled herself onto it. She outstretched her arms, precariously finding her balance.
“That’s quite the trick,” said Dr. Scott, filing into the landing at the foot of the door. Marcia gawked in amazement. Wilkins and the remaining Marines spread out, best they could.
“It’s so cool!” Char knocked on the door. The reverberations shook the confined space as it rang like a gong. “What do you think is on the other side?”
“Get down from there,” said Fairhaven. “This isn’t play time.”
Char glowered at her. “Who put you in charge?”
“Rank. Seniority. Chain of command. Are you new or something? Didn’t your daddy teach you this stuff? This can’t possibly be foreign to you. Get down from there. Now.”
“Funny.” Char pulled her lips into a tight line. “I mean, we’re the first people on Earth in a half century. We should be checking everything out.”
“We have no idea what we’re walking into.”
“Um, hello?” Char put her hands on her hips and leaned forward, glaring down at Fairhaven from her perch. “We’re the only people here. What could possibly hurt us?”
“Um, hello yourself. We’re following signs of life. We have no idea what is in here.”
“You used to be fun,” said Char. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Me?” Fairhaven touched her chest. “I could say the same about you, but we both know what’s gotten into you.”
“Dr. Scott?” Casually, Char tossed her hair over a shoulder, glancing in his direction. “He is dreamy, isn’t he?”
Several Marines stifled chuckles. Dr. Scott turned beet red.
“For fuck’s sake, I’m not talking about Dr. Scott. I’m talking about Sindarhe.”
Char was suddenly silent. Her head swept the room like a security camera, taking inventory of everyone privy to the conversation. “Do you have a point?”
“Wilkins told me what you said. And it’s clear Sindarhe is affecting you.”
“Looks like I’m not the only one.”
“What?!”
What was Char even talking about?
Sindarhe wasn’t affecting her. How could it? She hadn’t even been in contact with the planet. In fact, she had been strictly forbidden from setting foot on it because of—
How could Char even assume—
Did she just—
No—
Char quirked a smile. “Oh, right, you’re normally this hostile.”
“I—”
“—are a little off. I get it.” Char waved her hand in a grand sweeping gesture. “We all get it.”
Unlike so many that had criticized her over the past few weeks, Char was the only one that hadn’t immediately blamed her condition for her temperament.
And then her gaze dropped to Fairhaven’s belly.
“You’re in a mood. If it’s not Sindarhe affecting you, it must be all the hormones.”
“All the what?!” Fairhaven nearly exploded.
“Didn’t know loss of hearing was a side effect of pregnancy. Learn something new every day.”
“If I wasn’t—”
“Well, you are. And it’s hilarious.” Char puffed out her cheeks and held her hands out in front of her belly. Standing on top of the lion’s head, she awkwardly waddled in place. “Lookit me, I’m Melody. I’m in charge and I’m gonna boss you around. Seriously, who can take you seriously?”
Fairhaven sternly pointed at her. “You need to fall in line.”
“Or what?”
“Or what nothing. This isn’t a discussion. Fall back in line.”
“I don’t think so.” Char turned and began twisting the intricately carved figureheads jutting out of the door. “How do you think this thing opens?”
“Stop it!”
“It’s fine,” said Char. “I got this.”
“I said”—Fairhaven yanked her off the wall—“Stop!”
Char’s arms windmilled. Her hands grasped at air. For the briefest moment, she hung suspended, looking like she would stabilize. But she tumbled backward, hitting the hard brick floor. A loud crack echoed through the corridor.
Every person in their convoy stood in abject horror.
All eyes turned to Fairhaven.
“I—I didn’t mean to…”
Slowly, two Marines approached Char. Her body was contorted, her legs were buckled under her body. Her left arm was akimbo and her right was pinned beneath her torso.
Dr. Scott shimmied between the Marines, holding out his scanner. He dropped to a knee and waved the device over Char’s body. The scanner hummed and a matrix array of green light swept her body. He looked up from the device and slowly leaned over her.
Fairhaven couldn’t bring herself to take a step closer. “Is she…?”
