Nightmare Factory, page 39
“Sumo, you have to go, boy.” Another volley of rounds struck beside me, one dislodging a baseball chunk of stone that ricocheted off my chest plates.
With my visor opened, I smelled something, something that rekindled memories of me as a boy. Staying with my granddad, watching the July Fourth Holoparade where the VR spaceships came cruising down Main Street, and something else.
“Ada, scan surroundings for fuel storage. Petroleum.”
No one used fossil fuels anymore, but this was a garage, and I knew that smell. Grandpa used to call it diesel, I think. Said all the old trucks used to use it.
“Multiple storage tanks, several thousand gallons, and a synthetic catalyst compound,” Ada suggested.
“The catalyst?” I asked, already heading toward the location she had showed.
“It would make an excellent oxidizer. Down in the tunnels, the fuel may not burn if it doesn’t have a significant amount of oxygen.”
She knew what I was planning. I raced past the spot the Wulf had just vacated. I resisted the temptation to look over to the ramp, afraid my heart would break if I saw them leaving.
“Voss!” I yelled into my comms as I pulled hoses and piping that Ada indicated would work. “Damiana, you need to get out of wherever you are. I’m about to light this thing off.”
I don’t know why I warned her. If I was being honest, it was probably the jeans.
I had multiple lengths of hose heading back to the tunnels, and Ada triggered the fuel and catalyst release immediately. It wasn’t a good plan; it was a Kovach plan. Now, if I could just keep the Warthog from killing me or triggering the fire too soon. I needed that fuel to go all the way down that shaft to the very bottom. I mentally willed those tanks to drain faster. Puddles of the stuff ran like blood around my feet and ankles.
The Warbot stopped firing and suddenly backed up, one of its treads hung up on something behind it. The thing seemed almost confused. It rocked back and forward but had ceased firing. Could the thing sense danger? Did it understand the threat this fuel poised to it and its mechanical brethren?
I had both guns leveled at it, my targeting reticle dancing all over the head and upper body, Ada clearly finding nothing that might be a weakness or a control system to shoot at. I had to use the gyros and stiffeners in my suit to keep my arms steady, but I wouldn’t have to maintain it for much longer.
“Sumo, outside!” I yelled. “Go on, I’ll join you in a minute.”
I wasn’t sure that was true, but I would do my best.
The dog’s more sensitive nose had to smell the fuel by now, and he, too, seemed to know the danger. He barked, and then ran for the ramp. I made sure the hose was flowing well and ran to follow. I made it several steps before something snagged my leg and grabbed my feet. I looked down to see a steel braided rope. It bound my legs tight and was slowly being wound back to the Decimator. One panel on the front was opening, and inside I could see an empty space.
“Not going to happen.”
The damn thing was pulling me faster now. My suit was nearly completely submerged in the fuel. I’d also dropped both of the rifles when the thing had lassoed my legs; I still didn’t know how it could have managed that little feat.
I was within five feet of the Warthog before I got my blade out. Tapping down on the handle started the hypervibration that made the Heidelberg blades so deadly. The supersonic vibration happened at nearly the molecular level. If you looked at the blade, you couldn’t tell it was moving, but it was like a chain saw made of titanium razors. It sliced through the metal rope bindings instantly. I blocked an incoming arm from the Warthog and dropped a magnesium grenade into the open cockpit. I noticed seats in the thing and realized they designed these for human operators.
I heard the dog yelping for me far ahead. My confused body seemed almost under the control of something else entirely. I didn’t have long; I knew that. My awkward stumbling gait turned into a shamble, and then something sort of resembling a run just as the grenade cooked off. The Warthog Decimator seemed to balloon outward, then in on itself. Fire exploded out in every direction. Flame engulfed the tunnel, the garage, and defined the confines of my new world.
Explosions rang out throughout the space. Detonations that had to be ammo packs, bright intense flares of battery packs exploding. My suit protected me, but only up to a point. The inner level of the Rivex base layer provided both a ballistic and thermal barrier, but I had to be approaching its limits.
A massive fireball came skyrocketing out of the corridor, blowing what was left of the Warthog past me. A massive chunk of the heavy polycrete ceiling collapsed, knocking me sideways into the old guard booth we’d entered only hours earlier, although it now seemed like a lifetime ago. I pushed myself back up with my one almost good arm. Daylight no longer shone down the ramp to the outside. I couldn’t see more than a dozen feet in that direction. The thick concrete landing pad now slanted down, closing off that exit.
I stumbled through the wall of flame, my entire suit catching fire as I did so.
“That was fucking stupid.”
I could feel and hear the silicone gaskets at my neck and wrist as they melted into my skin. I could smell my body beginning to cook. The damage I was enduring was beyond even what a billion-dollar enhanced super-soldier could withstand. I thought about being back at my cabin in the mountains. Building something magical out of the wood slabs I still had curing behind the shed. I thought about my mom, and granddad, and Sumo. Not my whole life, but enough of it to remind me I had done some good…not enough. But some.
Then the flames in front of my face disappeared in a spray of white mist. Suddenly, Voss was in front of me, fire extinguisher in hand. She somehow managed to drag me into a side door just as another round of explosions rocked the underground parking deck.
“Why? I croaked.
“Some monsters we need.” She set the red extinguisher down heavily. “You are mine.”
CHAPTER
EIGHTY-SIX
“Don’t look at me that way.”
“I’ll look at you anyway I want. You are something I clean off the bottom of my shoe,” my voice hoarse and dry.
She laughed, not just a gesture, she thought it was funny. That unnerved me more than nearly anything else she had done.
“Thank you. For back there.”
She just nodded; I could tell she’d been through more trouble, too. Her clothes were ripped, and she had a fresh cut down her jawline.
I was busy prying the charred remnants of my now useless helmet off. I dropped the pieces to the floor where they rolled away, stopping at a wall that was canting inward at the top. I felt Ada coaxing the suit to supply meds and burn ointment, but she was just prolonging the inevitable.
“Did you get what you came for?” I asked.
“Some.”
I was too tired to want the details. “You need to go. Get out while you can.”
“They’ll make monsters, too,” she said. “Now they know what all we did here. They know all our bloody secrets. Warbots, cyborgs and worse, things you didn’t even see down there.”
“Monsters,” I echoed. “Nightmares.” Both names made the bile rise up in my gut.
Pain shot through me, and I shook from the trauma. Then it passed, and in its place was a sense of serenity and clarity. Am I dead?
Voss was motioning to something on the other side of the wall. I turned my head slowly but saw nothing.
“The Wraith,” she said in answer to my unasked question. “Broadcasting fear is not its only ability.”
“Cool trick,” I said, understanding flooding through me. “It’s just blocking the pain, though. My body is still a wreck. I’ve been here before. I know what comes next.”
“Kovach,” she said, totally ignoring my statement as she walked over to a brick of data storage cubes. “Hammer was not just working in opposition to the U.S., they were working against humanity. War is good. Wasn’t that Arlen Hammer’s motto?”
“Sounds right,” I said.
“All of these data systems here have been breached, every one of them.” She looked as defeated as I was. “Yes, they will make monsters, too.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, Joe, I do know it.”
“Shit… who’s left to do it? How can you possibly be so sure?” I asked.
“I’m sure.”
Her words were evident of something deeper. A hidden knowledge that, again, she was not about to share. The war, it seemed, had just begun, and this was not the end, but merely the beginning. She grabbed my good arm and pulled me toward a wall, and I could see a shaft of light coming down. Some sort of ventilation shaft.
“We need to go.”
I entered the slanted tube first, struggling to make it up the incline. Looking back, I saw her waiting for me to get clear. My suit barely cleared the last section, and I had to remove my sidearm and tactical belt for my hips to slide through. One good kick to a grille cover, and I was standing out in the misting rain. Pain began radiating through my body again, then Sumo was there bumping against me hard. Smoke billowed from dozens of hidden openings, obviously leading down to the underground facility.
I pulled a coil of narrow steel rope from the dog’s tactical pack. He didn’t carry much, but that one had come in handy several times. I tossed it down the vent shaft.
“Banshee is requesting permission to make a recovery drop,” Ada said. “They are two minutes out.”
The murderous plants bordering the complex were moving in; no longer was the tree line a defined edge. Whatever had been holding them back was gone. I also saw a line of the black mechanical crabs moving off in the direction of the road. Others appeared to be finding energy taps to recharge. Fucking little power vampires. Sumo bumped my leg again; he clearly no longer liked the neighborhood.
“Yes, tell them the LZ will be hot.”
I leaned over to pull Voss up when a sudden violent rush of air came at me. The fucking Wraith.
I felt weight on the line, and just as suddenly, it relaxed again. A brief shout and then Voss’s voice from the other end of the shaft.
“You’re an abomination,” Damiana said in a shout. “This is the end of the line.”
Even without the helmet, my eyes were still damn good. I saw a shadow pass by the small circle of light on the other end of the vent. Then spikes and an arm, an unmistakable arm. It was a Furie.
I wanted to go back. I wanted to be her champion. Was that me or the Wraith pulling on an emotional trigger?
I heard the creature and could picture those rows of teeth.
“Stay up there, Master Sergeant!”
Could she handle herself… handle it? I heard myself yelling, then screaming at her.
“Fuck this!” I tied off the line and was about to go down when I heard a shout and a grunt of pain. Then, Damiana Voss was coming up the shaft, barely touching the line I was holding.
It was damn hard not to be impressed by this woman.
She took my hand as she lightly climbed onto the lip of the shaft, then jumped, touching down lightly beside us. I saw a flutter nearby and knew it was her pet alien manta ray thing.
“I have us a ride coming,” I said. “What happened down there… all of that… thanks.” I saw something slip out of her hand and retract quickly back into her sleeve. What the hell was that?
She smiled. “We all have our jobs to do.”
I laughed and then winced at the pain it caused and sat down abruptly.
“I believe we failed.”
“Not yet, Joe, but yes… we still might.”
“Look, Voss, the planet is fucked.”
“The planet is fine. It’s humanity that’s fucked, Joe.”
She walked over and extended a hand to help me to my feet. “Same thing,” I offered.
“No—it isn’t.
Look, Master Sergeant, despite your beliefs and the optics of my recent behavior, we are not enemies.” She moved several feet away before turning to face me. “Not yet.”
“So, what, we’re partners now?”
The Wraith watched closely from its perch; I could just make out the cold eyes following its master as she moved along the edge of the building.
“Let’s say our goals are mutually aligned. If they ever are at crossed paths, that will lead us to a different outcome.”
“My path is ending, lady. You know that better than anyone.”
“Ah… yes. I am aware of your… predicament.”
She said it like I had misplaced my car keys… which reminded me I had. Dad was right, I was never getting Grandad’s truck back.
“There are a few things you should know, Kovach.”
“Seriously, just a few? Look, honey, stop the ride. I’m ready to get off.” My legs gave way again, and I dropped to one knee.
“First, this is not the only site. Hammer and others have similar facilities all over the world. We don’t know how many, nor do we know what they are all producing. We do know that the Decimators were shipped in here for final assembly. Also, I’m sure by now you have figured out the terraforming shit...a rather different take on the old scorched-earth battlefield tactics.”
I tried to speak, but my throat had started cramping on me. Sumo watched from close by; I knew he was unsure as to what to do.
“Terraforming? What, the plants?”
She bent to look at me, lifted an eyelid and stared close. I was unable to do anything. If she wanted me dead—I was dead.
“Consider this as well. sentient machines do not exist, never have, probably never will. Everyone knows we crossed the threshold years ago. The ‘singularity’ where the number of computations on each chip and the level of AI sophistication should have allowed it. It simply did not happen.”
A sound foretold the destruction going on below. The Warbots…. large and small, were highly pissed off now. Apparently, there were other horrors on the verge of escaping, and I had no way to stop them.
She squatted down, bringing our faces just inches apart. Despite the blood, the bruises, the dirt, and streaks of black soot, she was damn pleasing to look at. And yes—even in death, I am still an asshole guy. Millions of years of having an evolutionary mandate can’t be stopped simply because it’s considered politically incorrect.
“Think about it, Kovach. Your line of command is gone. Your access to intel, good intel, is compromised at best and probably totally unreliable at worst. For a soldier, you are in a unique position. You now get to choose whose lies you believe or at least whose orders you follow. Despite that, your team may be the last line of defense for the survivors. Do you understand what I am telling you?”
I tried to nod, but truthfully, I did not… my nod looked more like early signs of a stroke, which it probably was. Why on God’s green and slightly violet Earth was she still talking?
“You and your squad are off the leash. You must start making decisions for yourself. If you want to battle these monsters,” she paused as if considering her next words more carefully, “or whoever is controlling them, we can help. I do still have some resources.”
My face finally figured out how to move a few of the muscles in my mouth.
“Last month, you were a secretary in Virginia, looking for a ride.” That, at least, is what I tried to say. The reality was far less eloquent and involved a considerable amount more of saliva exiting my mouth than is polite even in these trying circumstances.
Her smile was genuine, it was a good smile. “I wanted to protect you, I wanted to protect dear Carol. You are right, though. I used you to get what I required. By the way, did she find her boy?”
I nodded. “They’re in the dropship.”
“Good, he’s a bright lad. I do feel a genuine fondness for them both… and for you. You are a tremendous fighter, but…” Her words trailed off momentarily. “You will have to be more.”
I thought I detected just the faintest whiff of a British accent in her voice now. I wanted to tell her I was headed to Valhalla; I wouldn’t become anything except dead.
A loud metal grinding was followed by a thump that shook the wall beside us. The Decimators had found us. Damiana obviously knew that but remained oddly calm. This woman acted like she had all the time in the world. I’ve worked with a lot of special operators, and I don’t think I’ve ever encountered one this cool.
“This is going to hurt.” She pointed her empty hand at me and mimicked pulling a trigger, and then her hand was suddenly not empty. She shot me.
“Sleep now,” she said, leaning over and kissing me.
She fucking kissed me. On The Lips! Then she was gone. I was vaguely aware of Sumo giving pursuit.
All I could do was use my one good arm to pull myself out toward the fractured landing pad. I stuck a finger in the hole in my armor. It was in my upper abdomen. My armor was weak there, and the base layer battleskin must’ve failed entirely.
CHAPTER
EIGHTY-SEVEN
BANSHEE
“Watch it,”
“There, no, there, goddammit.”
Barking… lots of barking.
“Going to be okay.”
Why was Bayou barking?
The voices mixed together as my view of the world jostled back and forth. Gun firing and something black overhead. Then… nothing. No pain, no… Macarena music.
“Joseph! Son, can you hear me?”
Dad’s voice was so far away. Too far for me to ever respond.
“We’re losing him.”
Bayou was shouting now.
“Get him in the med bay. Packer, get us in orbit, now!”
She moved around the gurney to get another IV started. It was all futile; she knew. His enhancements had kept him alive until now, but now they were killing him.
“Kovach, don’t you fucking die on me.” She yanked a charred piece of armor off his chest, taking skin and tissue with it.
“Fucking thing is melted to his skin. What in the hell did he do down there?” Priest asked.
