Planet Hate, page 20
Without conscious thought, Grant powered the Sin Eater back into his palm, rattling off a half dozen shots at the monster as it arrowed toward him along the narrow dirt tunnel. The 9 mm bullets pinged off the creature’s leathery hide, scraping against it before falling aside, clattering against the rock wall. Then the monster was upon him, its massive jaws opening wide as it lunged at his legs. Behind it, through the medium of the night lenses, Grant detected a second of the monstrous things hurrying down the tunnel.
The powerful ex-Mag sidestepped as the first of the monster’s jaws snapped shut like a trap, missing dismemberment by a matter of inches rather than feet.
“Stay sharp,” Grant shouted as he weaved out of the path of the first creature. “This one’s got a friend.”
“But what is it?” Rosalia returned, seeing little more than shapes in the darkened tunnel.
Grant had no time to explain. The monstrous reptile lifted itself from the ground on its powerful back legs, its body rising as its wicked jaws snapped for Grant. Suddenly the ex-Magistrate found himself pushed back against the wall of the narrow tunnel, his left arm coming up to ward off the creature as its jaws snapped at the air. Mouth open, the beast’s teeth were like scimitars, and Grant guessed that each sharpened tooth was close to a foot long. He rolled his shoulders, moving his head aside as the monster took another bite, jaws clacking shut on empty air.
Domi, whose night vision was superior to Rosalia’s, leaped onto the monstrous creature’s back, wrapping her hands around its thick neck where it widened into its torso. “Hang on, Grant!”
Even as she spoke, Domi was pulling out the knife that the Mexican had given her and, in a powerful swoop of her arm, drove the six-inch blade into the monster’s flesh between two ridged scales. The reptile reacted with irritation, rolling in place, trying to shake its attacker from its back.
Behind them, Rosalia could not see much in the darkness of the tunnel, but she felt Domi pass her, and could make out the albino girl’s pale skin as she flipped and flopped ahead. But, while she couldn’t see, Rosalia could hear the creature—whatever it was—as it snarled and sniffled, the slick mucus noise coming from the back of its throat as it breathed. She unsheathed the katana with a swift arcing of her arm, drawing the glinting blade in a single, graceful movement and placing both hands on the grip as she held it poised in front of her.
It was too dark to see properly, and attacking the first creature while it struggled with Domi and Grant would be folly, threatening to put their lives in danger as much as it might help them. Rosalia glanced behind her, saw where the sunlight still trickled into the caverns, stray rays glinting from the polished metal of her sword as it moved. In a flash, Rosalia angled the blade, twisting it in her grip so that it caught the sunlight, reflecting it down the corridor in a narrow beam. Magically, the tight cavern was lit with a thin shaft of weak light, enough that its edges became clear.
To the left, a rough rocky wall loomed, its highest edge little more than six feet above them, forcing Grant to duck as he wrestled with the creature who had attacked them. To the right, that sheer drop opened up, the ground falling away into blackness. And there, behind where Domi and Grant struggled with the first monster, came two more, bolting through the tunnels like bullets, one after the other.
Committing what she had briefly glimpsed to memory, Rosalia turned her sword, plunging the tunnel once more into blackness as she sprinted for the next of the creatures, her ragged-looking dog at her side. “Come on, boy,” she encouraged as she leaped on the flipping tail of the nearest. “Fetch!”
KANE WAS NO longer conscious, not in any traditional sense. Yet something inside him was awake, and it flashed visions before his eyes, burning from the left-hand edge of his face as it swept across the theater screen of his mind.
The stone god was clambering up a mountainside, his breath floating away in clouds of mist in the chilling temperatures of the Semien Range. Ullikummis was fleetingly irritated at how long it was taking, climbing this towering edifice this way when he could have taken a skimmer craft or one of the graceful Mantas to reach his vertiginous destination. But he tamped down his impatience, reminding himself how this was a mission of stealth and how the use of a machine to get here would be tantamount to announcing his presence and admitting his father’s involvement in the scheme to kill Lord Teshub.
Kane felt all this, the thoughts and the history behind them, like some silent observer lurking in the princeling’s soul. Though fully formed and clad in the stone plate that would ever be his skin, Ullikummis was perhaps sixteen, maybe a little older, certainly still a teenager.
The Annunaki prince climbed onward until he lurked just below a plateau, clutching its underside with strong fingers as his legs swung free beneath him. Hanging there, Ullikummis stilled his thoughts, listening for any hint of life above him. Icy winds from the east played around the mountains, stroking cold fingers against the crevices and freezing Ullikummis as he hung. He remained, enduring their cold caress as he listened for movement.
This area should be heavily guarded. Teshub was bacchanalian in his excesses, but he had chosen this remote hideaway for a reason—he feared the wrath of Enlil. Up here, in the Semien Range, Teshub had been titled the Lord of Heaven, and stories of his fearsome thunderbolts had spread throughout the apekin humans who worshiped the Annunaki and all the wonder they brought. Ullikummis feared no lightning bolts, for what could lightning do to a thing made of stone?
Eight minutes passed, with the formidable form of Ullikummis simply hanging there in silence, like another part of the mountain grown into the shape of a living thing. Then he heard it, the faintest scraping against the rocks above as a booted foot moved on the path directly above him.
Effortlessly, Ullikummis shifted his weight, causing his eight-foot-tall body to swing like a pendulum, faster and faster as he dangled beneath the jutting outcropping of the mountain’s side. In an instant he was over the side, swinging up and around, appearing on the path that had been above him just two seconds before, poised behind the guard there. Despite his bulk, Ullikummis landed with almost complete silence, any slight sound of his feet landing hidden by the banshee wail of the winds as they circled through the mountain range.
Standing with his back to Ullikummis, the guard was one of the Nephilim. The humanoid creature was dressed in plate armor and had covered this with a fur cloak that served as protection against the bitter cold. Nephilim warriors were a hybrid of DNA created in Tiamat’s bubbling vats, and they possessed qualities of both the local humans and the Annunaki. They were utterly hairless, with dark, scaled skin over their thick hides, high cheekbones and craggy brow ridges over their blank, soulless eyes. They were completely subservient to their Annunaki master, and would gladly give their lives for Lord Teshub if only they were capable of such an emotion as gladness.
Ullikummis stepped forward, stone hands as large as plates slapping against either side of the Nephilim warrior’s head and whipping it around. Then Ullikummis stepped away, letting the Nephilim drop to the ground, his neck broken. The body fell into the snow with a light shushing sound like grain.
Ullikummis turned instantly, preternaturally aware of the second warrior, who had chanced upon the scene without warning. Dressed like the other though in a fur cloak of a much darker brown, the Nephilim pulled a huge blade from its sheath at his waist even as he saw Ullikummis standing over the dead body of his colleague. Ullikummis met the blade—a golden scimitar that flashed in the morning sunlight—with his own arm, letting it cleave into his stony flesh for a moment before flicking it aside.
The Nephilim grunted as the blade left his hand, spinning across the pathway before clattering against the rough wall beside them. Ullikummis needed to keep this quiet, and sound carried far too quickly in the icy climes of the mountains, he knew. The mighty Annunaki prince stepped forward and reached for the Nephilim, grabbing the creature’s outstretched arm before he could react.
With a single movement Ullikummis wrenched the Nephilim warrior off his feet, dragging him on stumbling legs and knees across the five feet separating them before letting go. Still moving, the Nephilim sagged forward, his face smashing against the ground with a clack of his jaws as they were forced together by the brutal impact.
Ullikummis took a step forward, driving his foot into the center of the Nephilim’s back and pressing down with all his weight. The Nephilim gagged, struggling to free himself like some trapped butterfly on a pin, arms and legs flapping, yet unable to get away.
Beneath the weight of Ullikummis, the Nephilim soldier choked, his metal armor buckling under the incredible pressure. Ullikummis drove his heel deeper into the creature’s back, forcing the last vestige of breath out of his struggling lungs. Blank, soulless eyes widened with fear as the effort to take another breath became too much. Ullikummis relentlessly forced his weight against the helpless creature’s lungs. Beneath the breastplate of the armor, something snapped, the noise filtering to Ullikummis’s keen hearing despite the muffling effect of the creature’s fur cloak. No emotion showed on the stone god’s face; his mouth remained a grim slash. But he pushed again, pushed harder, hearing the second rib crack, then a third and fourth.
A viscous drool began to seep from the Nephilim’s open mouth then, and Ullikummis watched as the yellowish liquid oozed out, dark spots of red coming more and more frequently as it stained the snow.
Finally, once the Nephilim had stopped shaking and was still, Ullikummis removed his great stone foot from the warrior’s back. He remained standing over the body for two silent minutes, watching for any sign of movement, of life. Satisfied that there was none, Ullikummis buried the two bodies beneath a shallow covering of snow before making his way up the mountain pathway, his body crouched low, snow settling on his broad shoulders and the vicious spikes that grew from them like a stag’s antlers.
And Kane saw all of this, confused and uncertain, wondering if it was his history, his memories that were playing out.
I am living somebody else’s life, Kane realized again as the visions swelled within his mind’s eye. And whatever it was, whatever was really happening, he was slowly but surely losing his identity in the mix.
Chapter 16
Rosalia rolled as the nearest of the two monsters lunged at her in the darkness. She could barely see anything in this gloom, relying on occasional glimpses as a rogue shaft of sunlight glinted from the creature’s shiny scales or fearsome teeth.
Spinning in a crouch, Rosalia jabbed the sword at the monster as it came for her, cuffing it across the snout. The beast reared back for a moment, unleashing a hideous noise that sounded somewhere between a growl and a hiss. Then it came at her again, lumbering through the darkness on admirably powerful legs.
A few feet away Rosalia’s dog was tackling the remaining creature, barking and snarling as the creature prowled toward it. Suddenly the monstrous croc darted forward, jaws snapping as it grasped for the dog’s flank. Agile as a coyote, the dog scampered backward, maneuvering itself just barely out of reach of the monster’s crushing jaws. But then the dog’s feet slipped on loose earth, and for a moment it found itself sliding backward over the sheer drop to the right-hand side of the narrow path. Its hind legs wheeled in empty air before finding purchase on the hard rock face of the cliff, balancing there like a cantilever with its forepaws on the path.
The vicious reptile attacker saw its struggling prey through nocturnal eyes and bounded forward, its huge jaws opening wide to reveal a pointed tongue and set of daggerlike teeth that could doubtless shear a man—or dog—in two.
The dog bounded up and away, scrambling with belly low to the ground as it ducked beneath the monster’s gaping mouth. Unable to stop, the hulking creature found itself suddenly out of path, its leathery feet swishing against nothing but empty air.
Rosalia’s dog barked triumphantly as the monstrous alligator-like beast went hurtling from the cliff path in a scramble of flailing limbs, its huge tail swishing through the air as it dropped from sight. For a long moment the creature’s bellowing sounded like a scream that gradually became quieter, echoing back at them from the caverns.
Pressed right up against the wall, Grant ducked and weaved as a set of monstrous jaws came at him in the darkness, even as Domi struggled with the beast itself. Domi jabbed with the knife in her hand, plunging it into the beast’s head as it writhed beneath her, trying to shake her off.
Trapped, the back of his coat rubbing against the wall, Grant struggled to avoid another attempt from the creature to bite off his head. The beast reared back, spittle washing over Grant’s face, congealing against the lenses of his polymer glasses as he pulled desperately aside. Then Grant’s right fist came up in a vicious uppercut, driving through the air at the monster’s lower jaw. Within that fist, Grant still held his Sin Eater and he depressed the trigger, powering shot after shot into the calloused skin of the creature’s mouth.
Domi felt the monstrous lizard writhe and flip beneath her as Grant’s shots drilled into its jaw at point-blank range, and then she lost her grip around its throat. Suddenly the petite albino warrior was hurtling backward, falling from the creature’s back and rolling across the dirt path.
The Sin Eater blasted, firing bullets into the monster’s hide as it flailed in front of Grant. With a flick of its massive eight-foot-long tail, the reptilian nightmare whacked Domi across the chest as she struggled to regain her footing behind it, and the pixielike woman went sailing through the air, the knife spinning out of her grasp.
Suddenly, Domi was falling, plummeting over the side of the precipice. She spit out a curse as she reached out, her arms lunging through the darkness as she tried to grasp for a handhold—any handhold—lest she fall to her death. For a moment it seemed impossible, and Domi’s heart skipped a beat as her hands met with nothing but empty air. Then relief came as her left arm scraped against something hard and rough—the rock face. Still falling, Domi clawed against that rock, feeling the sharp edges bite at her, breaking three fingernails as she frantically tried to slow her descent.
She had fallen perhaps a dozen feet before she finally came to a stop, clinging there to the side of the cliff. There was no time to think, no time to catch her breath. Immediately, Domi began scrambling back up the rocky wall, urging speed to her muscles as she rushed to return to battle and help her comrades. But the cliff wasn’t as vertical as it appeared—in actuality, it dropped away in a bowl-like acute angle, forcing Domi to climb both up and back as she took up a more horizontal position with her ascent.
“Grant?” she called, her voice echoing in the cavern. “I’m gonna need some help here.”
Up above, Grant heard Domi’s call even as he unleashed another burst of fire at the creature that had him pinned to the wall. Grant found his bullets spraying in all directions as he tried to blast the monster, and he grunted as one of them pinged off the Kevlar plating of his coat. His shadow suit would help redistribute the kinetic impact of the bullet, but he was sure he’d end up with a bruise there tomorrow…that is, if he made it through to tomorrow.
The creature’s jaws snapped shut again, closing just inches from Grant’s head, the shearing power of its mighty incisors tearing for his face. In that second, Grant urged his Sin Eater back to its holster and grabbed the monstrous beast around its torso, close to where its shoulders should be. Then, with an almighty effort, Grant pushed against the monster, driving it away from him even as its vicious jaw opened once more to snap at him. Grant ducked his head and body, letting the jaw snap on empty air. Then, with his body still low, he pushed with all his might, his boots struggling for purchase as he shoved the mighty dinosaur-like beast back. The thing reared up on hind legs and tail, its short arms—each of them still longer than a man’s forearm—waggling in the air as it struggled to reach for its opponent.
Grant cursed as one of those short forelegs snapped against him, the clawed limb shredding a chunk from his coat as it pushed at him. But still the ex-Magistrate would not yield.
Grant was away from the wall now, the monstrous gator held in a wrestling grip, shoving it against itself, forcing it to lose ground. Grant pushed harder, demanding more from his incredible muscles as, inch by torturous inch, he shunted the reptilian beast away from him. Those lethal jaws clamped shut once again, teeth gnashing just two inches above the top of Grant’s head. And then the monster lost its footing as Grant pushed even harder. Its back legs left the ground and wagged pathetically in the air, just its massive tail holding it in place as Grant shoved its body up to a near vertical angle.
Almost directly below, Domi found herself running out of options. She hung almost horizontal, trying to climb up the bowl-like cliff spider-fashion. “Grant?” she called. “Rosalia? Someone?”
Grant took another agonized pace forward, his right foot stamping down against the rough earth of the path. As he did so, he pushed himself lower, getting better leverage for what he planned to do. Above him, the monster’s jaws snapped at the air with frustration, and it unleashed a fearsome growl of rage. Grant dipped his body, pushing his left shoulder against the underside of the writhing creature, shoving it against the monster’s leathery belly. His boots slipped a little against the ground as Grant gave one last, almighty push. As he did so, he stepped back, letting go of the reptilian creature that he had appeared to be wrestling. The beast flipped away from Grant, its snout scraping against the ceiling as it fell over onto its back. The path was narrow and the monster had fallen in such a way that half of its bulk was now positioned with legs in the air, poised over the edge of the cliff. Gravity did the rest.
