HOLES IN THE GROUND

Monsters exist.

Linguist Andy Dennison-Jones knows this all too well. He and his veterinarian wife, Sun, have been chased by them before, and barely escaped from a secret underground government facility with their lives.

Now they once again find themselves trapped alongside a collection of creatures straight out of hell. Fighting with them is an unlikely group of misfits, including a misplaced British kid, a former spec-ops soldier, and a strange Irishman who might be the oldest living thing on earth—if he’s even alive at all.

Filled with the kind of slam-bang action, wicked scares, and sly humor that have earned J.A. Konrath and Iain Rob Wright millions of fans, HOLES IN THE GROUND is both a collaboration and a continuation of both authors’ previous work ( ORIGIN by Konrath and FINAL WINTER by Wright) but also serves as a perfect introduction to their worlds.

Plus, as a bonus extra, included is an entirely different version of the novel—Wright’s original draft before Konrath touched it.

Two complete novels. One low price. Over 140,000 words of content.

The devil you know is just as bad as the devil you don’t…

HOLES IN THE GROUND by J.A. Konrath and Iain Rob Wright
Some secrets have teeth

HOLES IN THE GROUND

J.A. Konrath & Iain Rob Wright

Contents

Foreword, by J.A. Konrath

MAP: New Mexico Monstrum Facility: The Spiral

Begin reading HOLES IN THE GROUND, by J.A. Konrath & Iain Rob Wright

Middleword, by Iain Rob Wright

Begin reading HOLES IN THE GROUND, by Iain Rob Wright

About the Authors
Works by Iain Rob Wright
Works by Joe Konrath
Sign up for the J.A. Konrath newsletter

Copyright

Foreword

by JA Konrath

I became aware of Iain Rob Wright when I saw several of his books on Amazon.com in the Customers Also Bought section of my technothriller novel, ORIGIN.

I liked what I saw. I liked it a lot. Scary, science-based thrillers laced with black humor and a lot of suspense. Sign me up.

We collaborated on the Jack Daniels/Sarah Stone mystery STRAIGHT UP, and it was a pleasure working with Iain. When he told me he had a cool idea to continue the storyline of ORIGIN, I encouraged him to go for it.

It’s a fun experience, as a writer, to have another writer re-envision your characters. Especially since, in this novel, they interact with some of Iain’s characters from his horror novel THE FINAL WINTER. That said, as I was working on the second draft of this book, I wondered if I should change things to make it read more like ORIGIN. Iain is British. I’m a Yank. Our tones and styles vary. Our sense of humor is different. Hell, we even spell “humour” differently.

I spent a long time thinking about this.

Certainly, fans of ORIGIN will expect a sequel to be very similar. But then, Iain Rob Wright fans will also expect something similar to what they’ve grown to love, and I count myself among his fans. Ridley Scott’s ALIEN and James Cameron’s ALIENS were very different approaches to the same story, and they’re both worth seeing.

So I followed Iain’s approach. I admire his work, and enjoy his take on my work. During my rewrite, I tried my best to match his tone and style, and expand upon what he had envisioned for the storyline.

The end result was the novel you’re about to read. But if you’re curious about Iain’s original version, we’ve included that as a bonus.

That’s right. You can also read HOLES IN THE GROUND before I added anything, and there are many scenes that significantly differ.

Fans of my writing, and fans of Iain’s writing, and fans of ORIGIN and THE FINAL WINTER, should all find something to like here. And if you’ve never read either of us before, I think this is a fun introduction to both of us.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.

Prologue

Jack Cullum had heard about cattle mutilations, but he never expected to see one. Not one this horrible. Not on his own ranch.

The bull was in the north east corner of the pasture, mostly. Much of it was spread out over several yards, entwined in the barbed wire fence, strewn throughout the grass. Almost as if someone had dropped a twelve hundred pound tray of lasagna from a great height.

Jack crouched down next to the severed cow head and wiped some blood off the ear tag with his thumb. Thunder 112, a two year old Black Angus. Son of the legendary Mr. Toro—a bull rated #6 in marbling and #8 in calving ease in the Spring Sire Evaluation Report. A straw of Mr. Toro’s semen had cost Jack fifteen hundred dollars. Money that had been hard to come by.

The rancher pushed back his hat and wiped a sleeve across his forehead. The midday Texas sun made the breeze feel like an electric hair dryer. This would have to be cleaned up before it began to rot. Or cook. He’d have to borrow Charley’s trailer, shovel the remains onto that. Burying something as large as a bull was impossible.

Except for the carcass and the growing legion of flies, the pasture was empty. The rest of the herd was badly spooked. They’d gathered around the pens, refusing to graze. He had to get them back into their routine quickly.

Jack looked over the remains again, wondering how this could have happened. Bobcats weren’t dumb enough to attack a full grown bull, and even a pack of coyotes couldn’t have caused this much damage. There were no tracks or spoor, other than cattle.

That only left one possibility.

Jack searched his mind for anyone with a grudge against him. His ranch was small and relatively new. He posed no economic threat to anyone locally. The cattle market had been on an upswing, and everyone was doing better than expected. Jack liked his neighbors, and they him, often trading equipment and offering labor. But it had to be a man. Or a team of men, armed with axes and saws. Nothing else could have done this much damage. Thunder 112 was barely recognizable as an animal—there wasn’t a piece of him left that couldn’t fit into a garbage bag. Jack also noted parts were missing. There should have been more of the skeletal remains. And more innards. Even spread out, there was less than half a bull left.

There was movement to the right, at ground level. Jack turned, expecting a bird or some other small scavenger. At first glance it appeared to be a snake, long and black, slithering in the grass. But the rancher realized with a jolt that it wasn’t a snake at all. It wasn’t even an animal.

It was Thunder 112’s tail. Detached from the body and slowly undulating.

Jack blinked, figuring the heat was playing tricks with him. He stared hard, willing the tail to stop moving.

It didn’t.

Holding his fear in check, he approached the tail. Jack was expecting to see a gopher, perhaps, pulling on it. Or even a string, tied to one end while the other went off into the plains, being yanked by some practical joker. Silly ideas, to explain the unexplainable. But all he saw was a severed bull’s tail, lying in the gore-soaked grass, wiggling like a dropped garden hose.

Reflex, the rancher assured himself. Had to be. Muscles could twitch for a while after death. Lop off a chicken’s head, it could still run around for a few minutes. This had to be some bizarre reflex.

Jack was reaching out to touch the tail when something large hit him from behind.

The rancher sprawled face-first onto the grass. The sensation was similar to being thrown off a horse. His chest and back ached, and he could feel the tail squirming under his belly.

Jack rolled over to face his attacker, and his mind refused to accept what he saw.

This couldn’t be. He was a God-fearing man. He went to church. How in the name of Christ could this be happening?

“Where issssss Monnnnnnstruuuuum,” the thing said as it squatted beside him.

Jack was so terrified he couldn’t speak.

“Answer meeeeeeeeee.”

“I… I… I don’t know what you want.”

The creature tilted its head to the side, apparently thinking. Then, with a quick swipe of its talon, it ripped out Jack Cullum’s windpipe.

Jack was still alive, praying to God for mercy, when the thing began to feed on him.

Chapter One

The hotel room’s phone rang so loud that the receiver rattled on its cradle. While there were many things that Andrew Dennison-Jones was thankful for—his business was doing well, his debts had evaporated, and his beautiful new bride slept naked beside him—an early morning phone call still irritated the hell out of him. Especially since he slept so poorly, waking from bad dreams several times each night.

RING.

RING.

RING.

Andy shot an irritated glance at the clock next to the bed. Coming up on 7am San Diego time. Any chance of regaining sleep now was ruined. Once Andy was awake, he stayed awake.

He rolled over and fumbled for the receiver. “H-hello?”

“Mr. Dennison?”

Andy rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Yes. And it’s Dennison-Jones.”

“This is the hotel manager. I’ve been receiving reports of a disturbance on your floor. Is everything okay?”

Andy cleared his throat. “Huh? Yeah, everything is fine. We’re sleeping. Or were until you woke us up.”

“My apologies, sir. I have been trying to call the rooms adjacent to you, but they are not answering. I’m unsure what exactly is going on, but other guests have been complaining of shouting and…someone speaking in a strange language.”

“I’m American.”

“Of course, sir. It’s just that the credit card details you provided us are registered to Worldwide Translation Services. I thought—”

Andy blew out a breath of exasperation and blinked his crusty eyelids. “You thought it was me. But it wasn’t. It’s our honeymoon.”

“Of course, sir. I am sorry to have woken you.”

Andy considered calling the man an asshole in a dozen different languages, but let it pass. The manager was still speaking when Andy hung up the phone. He slid back down beneath the covers and turned to face his bride.

Sun was awake. Her eyes were open. A smirk adorned her face as she spoke in a dozy whisper. “I hope you’re not making clandestine calls to other women, Mr. Dennison-Jones. I only married you yesterday.”

Andy smiled, recalling the previous day and how wonderful everything had been. A small, private ceremony, just the two of them and a judge. Luck had brought them to San Diego—they’d won a contest and been given free plane tickets. They decided to make it a honeymoon, and hopped on a jet after tying the knot. It had been Sun’s idea for Andy to enter the 21st century and hyphenate their last names as a married couple.

When Andy told his buddies he was now Andrew Dennison-Jones they would call him whipped. And he wouldn’t mind a bit.

He kissed her forehead. “It was the hotel manager. Apparently someone has been speaking in tongues and he thought it was me. Obviously he thinks I’m some kind of hell raiser.”

Sun laughed. “If only they knew the truth.”

Andy chuckled and ran his fingers along Sun’s naked hips. Her skin was hot and inviting. Her perfume mingled with her natural musk.

It was time to do what honeymooners did.

Just as he began kissing Sun’s neck, there was a pounding at the door, loud enough to startle them both.

“Did you order room service?” Andy asked.

Sun shook her head.

Another loud pound.

“Maybe it’s the real hell raiser,” Sun whispered.

Andy stared at the door. There was a chance that whomever was at the door was the aforementioned troublemaker, the person causing all the complaints. It might be a bad idea opening up.

Or perhaps Sun was talking about another type of hell raiser. One who, quite literally, raised hell on earth. The cause of Andy’s nightmares.

Could that be who is at the door?

“Would Bub knock?” Andy asked. He was naked, but suddenly felt even more exposed. Vulnerable and unprotected.

Afraid.

“That’s not knocking. That’s pounding. But I don’t think he would knock. He’d just bust in and kill us both.”

Not a pleasant thought, but a true one.

Andy swung his legs out of bed and reached for the bathrobe on the nearby chair.

“TlhIngan maH!”

What the hell? It didn’t sound like a hellspawn, but it didn’t sound exactly human, either.

He glanced back at Sun. She was on her feet, a knife in her hand.

“Where did you get that?”

“I brought it on the plane.”

“How’d you get a knife through TSA?”

“It’s ceramic. Metal detectors won’t catch it.”

Another smack on the door, and Andy flinched.

“Want me to check?” Sun asked.

She was strong. Stronger than he was, Andy knew. But he saw the tension on her face, saw her hand trembling.

Sun had the same nightmares Andy did.

“I’ll check,” he said. He slowly padded over to the door, cautiously, in case it suddenly burst inward. When that didn’t happen, Andy leaned forward enough to check the peephole.

A bleary-eyed teenager stood in the hallway, wearing a Wrath of Khan shirt.

Andy let out the breath he’d been holding. “Some kid,” he told Sun. Then, to the door, he said “What do you want?”

The boy wobbled in place, part human being, part strawberry jelly. Then he repeated the strange expression. “TlhIngan maH!”

Andy rubbed a hand across his chin. “Is that… Is that Klingon?”

“Qapla!” the kid yelled.

“There’s some Star Wars geek in the hall?” Sun asked.

“No. Some teen who obviously got into the mini bar. And it’s Star Trek, not Star Wars.”

“What does he want?”

“Maybe he’s out of mixers.”

“nIteb Qob qaD jup ‘e’ chaw’be’ SuvwI’!”

“What did he say?” Sun asked.

“Why do you think I speak Klingon?”

“You speak everything.”

Andy sighed. “He said a warrior doesn’t let his friend go into battle alone.”

“He could be trying to warn us,” Sun said.

“Sun, no one knows we’re here.”

Sun rolled her eyes as if to say, of course they know we’re here.

The teen knocked again.

“Go away,” Andy told him.

“Is he hurt or something?” Sun asked.

“No. He looks drunk. Or high.”

“Should we help him?”

Andy made a face. “Why?”

“Because we’re good people who help others.”

“You can call down to the front desk, let the hotel manager deal with him.”

Sun got out of bed. “We should see what he wants.”

“You want me to let him in?”

“He could be trying to warn us about something.”

“He could be a random idiot.”

“If he tries anything, I got your back.” Sun held out the knife.

Andy wasn’t going to fight her on this. Not when they’d been married for less than twelve hours. He grunted and opened the door.

The boy staggered forward, and Andy had to put a hand out to hold him up.

“W-what are you doing in my room, dude?” the kid asked in a British accent.

Andy shoved the boy back a step. He did so firmly, but not so hard as to provoke a fight. “This is my room, dude.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“You gotta help me. I… I smoked something. I don’t know what it was.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Peer pressure.” His face broke, then he began to giggle. “I’m kidding. No one forced me. I just like drugs.”

“Go like them somewhere else,” Andy said, starting to close the door.

The boy pushed back but smiled merrily, as if Andy’s resistance was an amusing challenge to contend with. “I thought this was my room. It looks like my room.”

“It’s a hotel. All the rooms look alike. Are you here with your parents?”

The boy sneered but couldn’t seem to control his facial muscles enough to keep the expression on his face. “Parents? Don’t talk to me about… about parents. Bloody parents.”

“We should help him.”

“He’s not a puppy, Sun.”

Sun Dennison-Jones was a veterinarian by trade, which was a side of her at odds with the side that had snuck a ceramic knife onto a plane. But she had a thing for strays.

Which, Andy supposed, was why she had fallen in love with him.

Andy sighed again. “What’s your room number, kid?”

The boy’s eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, then a brief flash of sobriety seized him. “204.”

“This is the fourth floor. You’re not even on the right level.”

“Let’s get him cleaned up.” Sun had moved behind Andy, surprising him. She rubbed a hand over his rump and squeezed. She’d put on a robe.

Andy shook his head at her. “You want to let this moron inside our room?”

Sun shrugged her shoulders. “Today is our first day as man and wife. What type of couple do you want to be? One who closes the door in people’s faces, or one that helps people when they need it?”

Andy wanted to be the type of couple who had sex, so he complied. He pulled the boy in by his shirt before closing the door with his foot.

“Hey!” he said, shaking free. “Shatner signed this shirt!”

“Maybe you should ask Shatner to help you find your room.”

“Is he here? Awesome!”

Sun took the boy by the arm and sat him down on one of the room’s plush armchairs. “What’s your name?”

“Jerry.”

“Okay, Jerry. My name is Sun, and this is my husband, Andy.”

“Sun? Funny name.”

“I’m Vietnamese,” Sun added.

Jerry nodded and smiled. “I like Italians.”

“Of course you do,” Sun said, as if his reply made sense. She squatted down and put a hand on his forehead. “Temp slightly elevated, skin clammy, sclera pink.”

“Sclera?” Andy asked.

“The whites of the eye.”

“So he’s just stoned?”

“Hell yeah!” Jerry hooted.

“Could be something more than pot,” Sun said.

“So we call 911.”

Jerry shook his head. “No cops, dude. I’m straight.”

“Do you like coffee, Jerry?”

“Are tribbles born pregnant?”

Sun looked at Andy. He gave her a nod, then shrugged.

Sun figured out the K-cup coffee machine while Andy sat with the boy in silence. His best guess was that the lad was late teens to early twenties. He was wearing jeans and Nikes and his faded Star Trek T-shirt did indeed have a signature on it, done in black marker. A button pinned to his chest read: “PROBE ME HARDER”. The boy’s greasy shoulder-length brown hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks.

Sun handed the boy a steaming mug.

Andy asked, “So, Jerry, where did you get the drugs? Friends?”

He shook his head. “I’m here alone.”

Sun looked sad. “Alone? You came all the way from England on your own?”

“Nobody else would come. I only have one good friend and he… well, things are messed up between us right now. It’s a total arse ache.”

“What a sweet expression.”

“I got the gear from Batman.”

“You got your drugs from Batman?” Andy asked. “Does Commissioner Gordon know?”

“Some guy dressed as Batman. Cosplay, dude. The Bats was hanging with some Gundum manga otaku—real anoraks—and we stoked up the Graffix. But the gear was minging, man. I’m tripping my bollocks off.”

“I’m fluent in two dozen languages and have no idea what you just said.”

Jerry made a face. “Cosplay. Otaku. It’s the CCC this week.”

“CCC?” Andy and Sun said simultaneously.

“The Comic and Conspiracy Convention. Media geeks get together with all the conspiracy theory nuts. A lot of people are dressed up like comics and movies and shit. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

“We’re here on our honeymoon,” Sun said.

“Oh. That’s cool. You guys into anime?”

“No,” Andy answered.

“How about conspiracy theories? John Lennon being shot by the IRA in cahoots with the MI5? Project Cumulus in Gibraltar, British government trying to control the weather? It’s a real mindscrew when you see guys in tinfoil hats talking to guys dressed like X-Men.”

“I bet.” Andy looked at his wife, giving her an imploring can we get him out of here now expression.

“And the aliens crashing at Roswell, New Mexico? All the secret shit going on at Area 51? You know those were all a cover-up, right? America is even worse than Britain for covering shit up. You guys are the kings of burying secrets. Area 51 is the least of it.”

Andy felt his jaw clench. Sun’s demeanor changed from cordial to dangerous.

“What do you mean, Jerry?” Sun asked, her tone low and even.

“People think the US is hiding aliens. That’s bollocks. They’re hiding the devil. Had him in a secret underground lab.” He sipped from his mug. “This coffee is good. What flavor is it?”

“Coffee flavor.” Andy leaned in close to Jerry, measuring his words. “What do you know about this secret underground lab?”

“Just what I read on the Internet. Compound was called Samhain. Bunch of people died. It was tied to that nuclear explosion, the one they called a power plant accident. Any idiot knows nuclear reactors don’t explode, they melt down. Get this—they say they called the devil Bub. Like Beelzebub.”

Sun was on him before Andy could stop her, the ceramic knife at the boy’s neck.

“Who are you and who sent you? Tell us, now!”

Then there was another knock at the door.

Chapter Two

Sun turned in the direction of the knock. She looked panicked, and Andy knew he shared the expression.

Their past together was… complicated. They had lived through something they could never share with others. Something involving the very things Jerry was talking about.

Something terrifying.

Andy moved quickly to the door and peeked out through the peep hole.

Two men in black suits and sunglasses.

The Men in Black from the movies, geeks dressing up as Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones?

Or the real men in black, from the Secret Service?

“Are you going to cut my throat?” Jerry asked curiously.

Sun ignored him, focusing on her husband. “Is it…?”

Andy nodded.

The phone rang, startling them both. Andy had a sick feeling he knew who it was.

Sun left Jerry, who looked bewildered, and picked up the phone. She spoke in a monotone voice. “We already did our part.” Pause. “We’re on our honeymoon.” Pause. “Believe me, I understand national security, but I don’t see why he’d be needed. We were told we could get on with our lives, Mr. President.”

“Whoa,” Jerry said. “Is that the man?”

Sun hung up. Andy felt his stomach clench. “Let them in,” she said. “We don’t have a choice.”

She was correct. Among the many things Sun and Andy had signed in order to return to civilian life after their tenure at Samhain—oaths and pledges and vows and confidentiality agreements and NDAs swearing to never reveal what they knew—there was a price for being left alone. At any time, they could be called back into service.

Fighting the US government was like fighting the tide.

Besides, Andy did feel a smidgeon of responsibility for what happened at Samhain, and he knew Sun did as well.

Good people had died.

Worse, something very bad had escaped.

His hand shaking, he let the Secret Service in. They closed the door behind themselves.

The one on the right said, “Good morning, Mr. Dennison. Mrs. Dennison.”

“It’s Dennison-Jones,” Andy said, feeling deflated. “We just got married.”

“We know. I’m Agent Johnson. This is Agent Williams. Who’s that?”

“He’s not with you?” Sun asked.

“I’m Jerry.” He stood up, and suddenly didn’t look stoned anymore. “I run the Stop Government Secrets website. Is this about Samhain?”

The agents exchanged a glance. Then Agent Williams said, “Get out of here, kid, before you get hurt.”

“The people have a right to know! It’s all true, isn’t it? All the rumors! All the guesses! You really do have Satan locked up! I knew I could prove this! My site is going viral, bitches!”

Agent Williams calmly reached into his pocket and removed a taser.

“Is that a taser?” Jerry asked.

Agent Williams shot Jerry in the chest. The boy jerked and began to convulse.

For a few seconds, Andy dispassionately watched Jerry flop about like a fish on a jetty. When the volts were cut, Jerry lay still with a faint smell of ozone hanging in the room. Andy turned to agent Johnson. “We’re not going. We’re on our honeymoon.”

“We’re not giving you a choice. It’s only for a few days, and you’ll be well compensated for your time, Mr. Dennison.”

“Dennison-Jones. Does Sun have to go?”

“That’s up to her.”

Andy said, “You’re not going” at the same time she said “I’m going.”

They had a stare down, and Andy blinked first. He always did.

Could this honeymoon get any worse?

“What about the kid?” Sun asked.

“I want to go, too!” he said, half-whine and half-croak.

“Who is he?” Agent Williams asked.

“We have no idea,” Andy answered. “He knocked on our door a few minutes before you did.”

Agent Johnson squatted down next to Jerry, grabbed his hand, and pressed it against a small, electronic device that looked like a smart phone.

“Are you reading my fingerprint?” Jerry rasped. “I heard about these things. We’re just one step away from a one world government planting ID chips in our arms to track our movements.”

Agent Johnson eyed the screen of his device. “Jeremy Preston. UK citizen. Wanted for major theft. NSA has a file on him as well.”

“They do?” Jerry sat up, eyes wide. “Cool! I didn’t think anyone was paying attention to me. Hey, how do I get these little electric barbs out of my chest?”

“Pull, really hard,” said Agent Williams.

He did that and yelped. “Getting tazed sucks.”

“That’s the point. What are you doing here, Jerry?”

“I’m here to interview Andy and Sun. I’m the one who flew them to San Diego.”

The free plane tickets. Andy winced. He’d known it was too good to be true. After Samhain they couldn’t count on anything being a coincidence.

“So you’re not some stoner kid who knocked on our doors accidentally,” Sun said. “You’re a con artist who lied to us.”

Jerry yanked out the taser probes and yelped. “I did send you plane fare. That cost me almost all the money I had. Look, all I want is your story. On video, of course, for my ClipShare channel. I’m going to get some sick hits.”

“We would be shot for treason for talking to you, you moron,” Andy said.

“I’ll pixelate your faces. No one will know it’s you.”

Andy rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “Except for the Secret Service and the President of the United States.”

Jerry turned sheepish. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.”

Sun looked at the agents. “What happens to him?”

Agent Williams shrugged. “He’s a foreigner. We could detain him without due process under the Homeland Security Act.”

“Like in Guantanamo or Abu Ghraib?” Jerry’s voice went up an octave. “And then what? I’m in jail forever without a trial?”

“That, or you’re executed,” Agent Johnson said.

“Or you accidentally die during enhanced interrogation.” Agent Williams shrugged. “It happens.”

Jerry shook his head and clasped his hands together. “Please let me come with. I’m begging you. Please. I don’t want to be killed or imprisoned or subjected to torture.”

“Advanced interrogation,” Agent Williams corrected.

Andy wanted to be angry this was happening, and angry at Jerry, though the boy wasn’t actually responsible. Instead, all he felt was fear, and pity.

“Can’t you just erase his memory and dump him somewhere?” Andy asked.

Agent Johnson said, “We don’t have that technology perfected. Yet.”

“So our choice is to bring him, or he disappears?” Andy said.

“Your choice,” Agent Williams said. “The President is allowing you to bring whomever you’d like.”

“How generous of him,” Andy said, his frown deepening.

Sun squatted down next to Jerry. “If you come with us, Jerry, you can’t put this on your website. No videos. No blogging. No telling anyone, ever. Do you understand that?”

The kid just nodded.

“And you’re not really stoned right now?”

“I was acting. I poked myself in the eyes so they were bloodshot. I just want to know the truth, Mrs. Dennison-Jones. Finding it is all I have.”

Sun gave her husband a look. Andy frowned.

“Bring him along,” he said.

A few minutes later they were hauling their bags and being corralled into the obligatory black helicopter idling on the hotel’s lawn. Several spectators, both hotel staff and guests, stood around gawping at the spectacle.

The Government obviously doesn’t do clandestine anymore.

Andy, Sun, and Jerry strapped themselves into their seats. Sun looked determined. Jerry looked excited. Andy felt like throwing up.

The rotor blades started spinning. A feeling of weightlessness heralded the beginning of the flight and before long the chopper was a hundred feet above the ground, zipping away at eighty miles an hour. Andy watched the ground whiz by beneath them, and his gut told him this was a really, really bad idea.

“Don’t worry,” Sun said over the roar of the chopper’s twin engines. “We never really were the relaxing type anyway. This is far more us.”

“You think?”

Sun leaned up against him and rubbed his thigh. “I’m still going to find some time to get you alone, my sexy man.”

Andy felt himself brighten at the suggestion, but not enough to chase away all the worry. “Sun, I love you more than anything, but we know what happened last time.”

“Nuclear explosion,” Jerry said, grinning.

“This is a private conversation. But, yes, it ended in a nuclear explosion.” Andy looked into his wife’s deep brown eyes. “Do you really see this ending well?”

“Maybe things will be different this time. Safer. More secure. There’s always the chance the government learned from their mistakes.”

Jerry laughed. “Yeah. Right. They do that all the time.”

Sun reached for Andy’s hand, held it tight. “Well, whatever happens, we’re married, we’re together. How bad can it be?”

Andy stared out of the window as the city of San Diego gave way to lonely countryside. Sagebrush and tumbleweeds dotted the landscape and the Laguna Mountains loomed in the distance.

“It could be as bad as last time,” Andy said. “That’s how bad it could be.”

“Nothing can be as bad as last time.”

Andy pressed his forehead against the window and closed his eyes. “We’ll see.”

Chapter Three

The chopper followed along the coastline but headed inland after about two hours. Andy didn’t know this part of the country too well, but he considered that they might be heading over palm valley towards Constitution 1857 National Park in Baja, Mexico.

Last time it was the desert, this time it’s the wilderness.

The chopper began its descent and Agent Williams, sitting up front with the pilot, muttered something into the mic attached to his headset. Obviously somebody down below was expecting them.

Sun’s hand tightened around Andy’s. He squeezed back.

Andy stared out the window at the approaching treetops and thought about the events of the last few years. It was likely that they would soon be adding more unwanted experiences to their mental résumés. Andy had known this time would eventually come. He and Sun being summoned like this had been inevitable from the moment they’d walked away from Samhain. They were involved in something that was not yet over.

Perhaps it never would be.

The helicopter touched down in a clearing between a circle of Jeffrey pines. The steel skids struck rocky ground and the cockpit bounced briefly before settling down and coming to rest.

Agent Williams twisted in his chair and nodded at Sun and Andy. “Get out and somebody will meet you.”

“This is so cool,” Jerry said.

Andy glanced at him. “Trust us, it’s not cool. It’s probably going to end with all of us running for our lives.”

“That is so cool,” Jerry said.

Andy shoved Jerry out of the door and then turned around to help his wife make the three foot drop to the rocky landing pad.

The clearing was baked, the ground hard and parched. Shadows covered one side of the area while the sun beat down ferociously on the other. There was no wildlife nearby; no birds, no squirrels. Andy craned his neck and looked around. Three hundred and sixty degrees of woodland, not a building nor soul in sight.

One of the agents dropped their bags, then the chopper quickly jumped back up into the air. It tilted left and then headed right, clearing the treetops by mere inches. Within seconds it was out of sight, the distant humming of its propellers the only evidence that it had ever been there.

“Whoa!” said Jerry, looking up at the sky. “Did they just leave us here?”

“Just wait,” said Andy. “We’re not alone. Someone is going to pop out of somewhere.”

“Mr. and Mrs. Dennison-Jones, I presume?”

Andy spun around. Behind them stood an older gentleman in military uniform. From the amount of ribbons on the man’s chest, both his rank and experience were distinguished.

Andy walked to meet the figure, aware of the drill after having been through a similar situation before. He held out a hand to shake the man’s hand. “It’s Dennison-Jones.”

“Isn’t that what I said?”

Andy realized it was. He’d been so used to correcting people that he hadn’t caught it.

“I suppose you did. I take it you’re the head honcho?”

“I’m General Austin Kane. Welcome to Project Monstrum, facility 26. Or, as we here call it, the Spiral.”

Monstrum. Great.

Kane offered a bony hand, which Andy shook firmly. It felt like clutching a wispy tree branch.

“And this must be Mrs. Dennison-Jones.”

“Ms.” Sun said, taking his hand.

Andy explained, “We’re married, so we combined our last names, but we don’t feel the English honorific should change just because of how many X chromosomes you have.”

“Whipped!” Jerry said. “If I ever get married—”

“Don’t bet on it,” Sun said, staring him down.

Jerry shut up.

“And this must be the extra baggage I was informed about. Jerry Preston. Tell me, son, what compelled you to steal from—”

“Nice to meet you, General,” Jerry offered his hand. “I’m happy to help out in any way I can.”

“Yes, well, if you don’t, you’ll be sent to a black site, and then we’ll go after everyone you care about.”

“Wha?”

“Kidding, of course.” The General raised his eyebrows. “Or am I? Now let’s get everyone inside for a quick briefing. I’ll send someone up for your bags.”

Sun and Andy looked at one another. Then Andy nodded to the General. “Lead the way.”

Andy, Sun, and Jerry followed Kane over to a large pile of logs between two leaning pine trees. Close inspection revealed that they were fake, made of thick, painted plastic and secured to a large metal plate. The plate slid aside automatically as they approached, revealing a murky stairwell leading into the earth. It was Samhain all over again.

“The Spiral has recently been upgraded,” Kane told them. “But I’m afraid the entrance has seen better days. Mind your step on the way down as some of the steps have decayed after so long underground.”

Everybody headed down the staircase. The large metal plate slid closed above them and a line of naked bulbs on the ceiling switched on. Many of the bulbs had blown-out or were flickering.

After a few hundred harsh, concrete steps, the staircase ended at a set of modern aluminium doors. The doors slid apart as the group got closer, revealing the shiny interior of a burnished steel elevator vestibule big enough to hold an SUV.

“The refurbishments start here,” said Kane. “After the Samhain incident, a majority of our facilities were revamped and retrofitted with new security protocols. Each room and hallway has an alarm.” He pointed to the wall, at a red square with a lever on it. “Pull it, and the entire complex goes on lockdown. We also have a small contingent of armed security staff, so please don’t be alarmed by the sight of weaponry.”

Andy felt simultaneously better and worse. It was good that the facility was more protected than Samhain had been, but bad that it was yet another facility that needed to be guarded in the first place.

“Needless to say,” Kane said, “but everything you are about to see must be kept in absolute secrecy. You all know what will happen if you don’t. Now, please, step into the elevator.”

The group stepped inside the vaulted cabin. There were no controls on the wall. Kane simply said, ‘Spiral, Level 2’.

The elevator began to descend.

“It automatically detects my security card.” Kane produced a credit card sized piece of plastic from his pocket and showed it to them. “Without one of these cards or a visitor’s access fob the elevators will not work. Only a few key people have full access, and even if they have the card they also need specific codes to do certain things, like open cell doors. Just one of our many security features.”

“I feel like I’m on an episode of Fringe,” said Jerry.

“Believe me,” Andy said. “The awe wears off quickly.”

“Let’s try to stay positive, honey.” Sun took his hand. “We don’t know anything yet.”

“I am positive,” Andy said. “I’m positive it’s going to be awful.”

“Don’t be overly concerned, Mr. Dennison-Jones,” Kane said. “We’ve got a good team here, and a good facility. There hasn’t been an accident at the Spiral for eight years.”

“Let me guess why I’m here. Did you get some new addition? Something that looks like a demon from hell?” Andy folded his arms. “If so, your eight year safety streak is about to end.”

“We have a lot more here than demons, Mr. Dennison-Jones. You’ll find it is nothing like Samhain.”

The elevator shuddered to a stop and the doors immediately opened. What greeted them was like nothing they had ever seen before.

It was not at all like what Andy had been expecting. General Kane had been right.

It was nothing like Samhain.

Chapter Four

Sun was concerned about her husband. She knew that beneath his veneer of calm, Andy was terrified. How could he not be? After what had happened the last time they’d been underground courtesy of the US government, it was a wonder he’d managed to remain sane. The same was true of her, of course. Despite the contentment she had found in Andy’s arms, and the outright joy that her engagement and recent marriage had brought, she was still deeply damaged. She often lay awake in bed, knowing that Andy, too, was probably feigning sleep beside her. She would think about the terrors they had seen together and knew that if sleep eventually did find her it would be draped in a shroud of nightmares.

And now it seemed as though her nightmares were about to receive a follow-up booster shot.

When the elevator doors opened, Sun’s apprehension was alleviated somewhat. Samhain had been a technological kluge beneath the desert, much of it older than anyone working there. But what she was looking at now was an entirely different ball game.

“Welcome to Spiral level 2,” said General Kane. He stepped out in front of them and gestured like a magician revealing some great illusion. “Or as we like to call this area, the Nucleus. We’re fifty meters down. But there’s far more than just this.”

Sun stepped out of the elevator and glanced around, tilting her head in all directions. The vaulted ceilings were a hundred-feet high above an area the size of a football field. Glass partitions separated numerous banks of blinking computers and expensive modern desks. There were so many people milling about the area that it could have passed for the call center of some mundane corporation.

“This is where 80% of the facility’s staff operates,” said Kane. “From here we can control security, communication, and all other aspects of the day-to-day running of the site. Our entire network is powered by one of the world’s most powerful super computers and protected by the most sophisticated firewalls in existence.”

“I bet you get some killer frame rates on Call of Duty,” Jerry said.

“With a computer like that, why do you need a translator?” Andy asked. “With all this power you could translate the Voynich manuscript.”

“We did that already,” Kane said. “Interesting stuff.” Apparently they’d deciphered one of history’s most perplexing riddles. But before Andy could follow-up, Kane added, “Tell me, Mr. Dennison-Jones, do you know Manx?”

Andy nodded. “A Goidelic language, a dead branch of Celtic that was once popular on the Isle of Man.”

“In the Irish Sea?” Jerry asked.

Sun frowned. “Please tell me you’re just holding a leprechaun, and need my husband to learn where he buried his pot of gold.”

“Unfortunately, no, Ms. Dennison-Jones. But we’ve got some things that make leprechauns seem positively normal. Follow me.”

The group re-entered the elevator and this time Kane gave a different command: “Subbasement 1.”

The elevator began to descend.

“We’re heading another hundred meters down,” said Kane. “It will take a few minutes. In the meantime let me explain why this facility is not like one you may have seen before. Samhain was built in 1906 by President Roosevelt and was designed to contain a single subject. This facility is far older and grander in its purposes.”

“How much older?” Sun asked.

“The site’s footprint has changed dozens of times since its initial construction. It has expanded, been dug down deeper, reinforced. The very first facility here was above ground and much smaller. To answer your question, this site has been in operation in some form or another since 1812.”

“Bullshit!” Jerry said.

“Not at all. The facility was commissioned by the founding fathers themselves, including Thomas Jefferson, John Jay, and James Madison, along with Joseph-Napoleon Bonaparte, who was king of Spain at the time. This area was New Spain back then, and the facility was built by the Masons and the Catholic Church.”

“Okay,” Sun held up a hand. “You’re starting to get Dan Brown on us now. You expect us to believe that there’s some sort of conspiracy dating back almost all the way to the birth of our nation?”

Kane laughed. “A conspiracy? I don’t know if I’d describe it like that. But it was for the greater good, most certainly. As for it dating back to the birth of our nation, things go back much further than that.”

Sun frowned. She rubbed at her arms and felt goose bumps. The air in the elevator chilled as they cut deeper into the earth. “How much further back?” she asked.

The elevator stopped. The doors opened.

“We’re here,” said Kane, stepping out into the corridor and gesturing to a huge painting on the wall in front of them. The focus of the picture was a saintly figure in wonderful, golden robes.

Kane smiled at them like a monkey who’d been taught how to smoke. He told them, “Our project was created by St. Clement the first. In the year 94.”

Sun shook her head. It couldn’t be. She scanned through her brain’s knowledge banks, fact checking her own thoughts. The man in the painting, St. Clement, was the third Pope in history, consecrated by St. Peter himself. Sun had taken a great interest in religious history since Samhain. Things she had once thought ancient and unimportant had become pressing concerns.

“What you are about to see,” Kane said, “was started by a group of devoted individuals coming together under the collective name of Deus Manus.”

Sun looked at her husband for an explanation.

He quickly gave one. “It means ‘God’s hand’.”

Kane nodded and smiled. “It does indeed. The reason this facility stands is to protect humanity from the worst evil to ever walk the earth. And with that cryptic introduction, allow me to introduce you to some of our guests.”

Chapter Five

The corridor in which they were standing had clean magnolia walls. They curved slightly, as if the hallway was circular and joined back on itself like a snake consuming its own tail. Spaced apart every ten feet or so was a collection of doors. They were thick steel, maybe titanium, and had viewing hatches like you would find in a prison. There were no locks, nor any handles on the doors. Instead, each door had a small LED touchscreen built into the wall beside it.

“There are four main levels to the upper facility,” Kane explained, “such as the Nucleus on level 2 and the staff dormitories on level 4. Below those four levels are five subbasements; with this being the first: subbasement 1. Each subbasement is a curved hallway with elevators on either end. The deeper you go, the more, well, colorful, the guests become. Of all the places to begin your tour, this level is probably the wisest place to begin. The lower levels may be a tad too much to take in without being properly acclimatised beforehand.”

Sun breathed in, and her olfactory senses were assaulted by smells of strange animals. It brought back, unbidden, memories of the last time she’d seen Bub. She saw him all the time in her nightmares. She didn’t relish the prospect of seeing him again. Or anything equally evil.

Kane stopped and turned around. Sun almost bumped into the back of him, and Andy almost into the back of her. Jerry was dawdling several feet behind with an anxious look on his face.

“Okay, let’s start with cell number 9. As good a place as any.” Kane went up to the nearest door and pressed his thumb against the LED screen. It flashed green and let out a friendly beep. Kane then prodded at the panel several times with his index finger, navigating various menus.

The hatch at the top of the door slid open.

“Take a look,” said Kane.

Sun looked over at her husband. Andy had grown pale. He was staring at the hatch but making no move towards it. She knew the memories of Samhain were flooding back to him, just as they were to her.

Sun touched Andy’s hand with hers. “I’ll go,” she said.

She took a step towards the door. And then another.

Then she was standing in front of the hatch. Taking a deep breath, Sun leaned forward. Her eyes went wide.

“What the hell is that?”

“That, Ms. Dennison-Jones, is an imp. Quite harmless in most instances, but they can still give a nasty bite. Real nasty.”

Sun stared into the cell. The interior was almost like a habitat at a zoo. It was a vast rectangle, stretching fifty feet backwards in a widening arc. Sun spotted a rock cave and a small pond amongst artificial reeds and rubbery plant life.

The creature inside was almost human, childlike in its stature and no bigger than thirty centimeters tall. What made it decidedly inhuman was its green, glistening skin, sticky as an earthworm’s. A ropey tail swished behind the creature and a pair of cranial bumps rose behind its ears like stunted horns.

The imp realised that it was being watched through the hatch and returned Sun’s gaze. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw its ears prick up and its tail begin to wag faster.

Is it happy to see me?

Sun stood aside so that Andy could take a look. His reaction was equally as shocked. As soon as he had seen enough, Jerry took his turn.

“You’re winding me up,” he said. “That’s some kind of animatronic. Either that or you’ve been messing around with nature like that dickhead in Jurassic Park.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t get the reference,” said Kane.

Jerry’s eyes widened. “You never saw Jurassic Park?”

“If you are referring to a movie then I’m afraid I have to admit to finding little time for such things. The recreation area of the Spiral has an extensive video library but I prefer books.”

Jerry huffed. “Jurassic Park was a book first, man.”

“The reference is still lost on me.”

“It’s about dinosaurs. Scientists clone dinosaurs so they’re no longer extinct.”

Kane chuckled. “Who says they’re extinct? We have several of them down here.”

“Cool!” Jerry said. “Which ones? Got any Velociraptors? Did you know Carcharodontosaurus was a bigger predator than T-Rex?”

“I don’t know their names, but some we have are big.”

“Excuse me,” Sun interrupted the exchange. As fascinating as dinosaurs were, they weren’t malevolently intelligent and plotting the destruction of the world. “Can you explain a little more about what you have in there? You said it’s an imp? As in a little demon?”

Kane nodded his head slowly. His aging eyes had narrowed and the corners of his mouth turned downwards. “I’d have thought you’d be willing to believe in such things by now, Ms. Dennison-Jones. As for it being a demon, I don’t know. All I can say is that the dirty little thing is an organic life form and that the first one was captured several centuries ago. It was housed in Sarajevo until the hostilities there led to the facility becoming compromised.”

“A Sarajevo facility? What the hell was the US government doing there?”

“You misunderstand. The facility did not belong to the United States. It was under the control of the Bosnian government. The society of Deus Manus goes beyond boundaries. It is older than many of the nations which exist today and has influence exceeding them all. It is a collective of societies, organizations, individuals, and governments, all unified in the quest to capture and contain evil.”

Sun raised an eyebrow. “Evil?”

Kane gestured to cell number 9. “I don’t mean the notion of evil—some philosophical debate about the inner nature of man. I mean evil as a living, breathing being, like that thing in there. This facility—and many others like it—were built to contain the predators that have haunted men’s nightmares since the dawn of time. We are the jailors of nightmares. The Spiral is a giant underground prison; the safest maximum-security prison ever built. And there are dozens of others just like it, all over the world. The cells are mostly automated. Food is released from shafts in the ceilings and water is piped in through several taps.”

“Live food?” Sun asked.

“It depends on the particular needs of the guest. If they require something live, or fresh, we ship it in daily. Imps, for example, prefer chickens. They eat everything, including the feathers.”

“Are they intelligent?” Andy asked.

“Maybe a bit dumber than chimpanzees.”

“How about the other creatures you house here?”

“None as smart as we are, Mr. Dennison-Jones. That’s why they’re in the cells, and we’re out here.”

Jerry tapped on the hatch. “This is mad. My blog readers—”

Everyone turned to stare at him.

“—will never know, because I’m never telling anyone. Frak, silence sucks. Last night I had breakfast with two guys dressed as Borg and a dude who insisted the Book of Revelation was happening right now. They’d flip out if they knew this.” He caught a look from Kane and quickly added, “But they never will.”

“How many guests do you have here exactly?” Sun asked, dreading what the answer might be.

“Each subbasement has eighteen cells. They are all mostly full.”

Sun did the math. “You have almost ninety creatures held here?”

Kane shook his head. “You’re assuming that occupancy is one per cell.” He pointed back at cell number 9. “Take a closer look.”

Sun went back over to the hatch and peered inside. She waited a moment, but then she saw it.

“There’s more of them in there.”

Inside the habitat, several more imps appeared from amongst the foliage. They were of varying sizes, but all had the same green skin and swishing tails. They gathered in front of the rock cave and faced the hatch, four in total.

“We let the dirty little things breed,” Kane said. “But we keep their numbers low. Once a year we cull any creatures that are over the thresholds we set. Either that or we use them for our research.”

Sun looked in at the group of childlike creatures and suddenly felt a tug of guilt. “They’re a family?”

Kane folded his bony arms. His demeanor had become much cooler. “You could call it that, I suppose. As much as you would call a pack of rats a family. Come on, I’ll show you the next cell.”

The group moved on like a tour group in the world’s most surreal museum. They stopped in front of cell 10 and Kane once again operated the LED panel beside the door.

The hatch opened.

Sun was again the first person to look inside. This time the interior was a blank canvass of grey bedrock. In several places the ground was puckered, rising up into small craters. The whole habitat reminded Sun of the surface of the moon.

I don’t see anything.

Then something caught her eye. It was about twenty feet inside. She adjusted her vision and focused on one of the craters. Something big was lurking inside. The only thing that distinguished it from the shadows was its brief fidgety movement.

“It’s… a unicorn!” Sun said.

The creature had a magnificent, pointy horn jutting from its skull. It whinnied like a horse and pawed the ground.

“Why the hell would you keep those things?” Jerry said. “The imps I can understand. But those things aren’t monsters.”

“Everything here is some sort of monster,” Kane answered. “Deus Manus keeps them separated from the world.”

“If everything is a monster, why not kill them all?” Jerry asked.

“Our job is to guard, not to kill,” Kane said. “The Deus Manus order believes all living things were created by God.”

Jerry pulled a face. “So God created evil? What kind of God would do that?”

“The same God who created the bubonic plague, which wiped out two hundred million people in the 14th century, and the Spanish Flu, which wiped out over fifty million less than a hundred years ago. The God who destroyed Pompeii when Vesuvius erupted, the 1931 Chinese floods that killed millions, the 1960 Bhola cyclone that killed hundreds of thousands, the 2010 earthquake in Haiti that left two hundred and thirty thousand people dead. There have been hundreds of famines and natural disasters, countless diseases. The Lord moves in mysterious ways.”

“You may not be able to control an earthquake,” Andy said. “But you could certainly take care of the creatures in this facility.”

“Andy!” Sun nudged him. “It’s a unicorn!”

“It could be some sort of evil unicorn. Maybe it eats people.”

“The unicorn eats hay, Mr. Dennison-Jones. It’s not tame, but compared to many of our residents it’s mostly harmless.”

“So why keep them a secret?”

“We can’t risk revealing them to the world. The founders of Deus Manus were devoted to God. They locked away anything they felt was intrinsically evil or came from hell. I’m not about to second-guess them. They lived during a time where creatures like this walked the earth. If our ancestors thought the imps and unicorns were dangerous, then so do I.”

“But there’s no records, no history.”

Kane shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said, Deus Manus was created by the world’s most powerful elite; people who not only wrote the history books, but dictated the very direction of civilization. Humanity matured knowing only what these men allowed it to.”

Sun bristled. “No one has that right. No one has the right to take ownership of history.”

“Yeah,” said Jerry. “Those Deus Anus blokes were bang out of order.”

Kane pursed his lips. “Like it or not, what we are tasked with here is more ancient and more important than anything else in existence. We are the keepers of humanity, and it is our calling to prevent the evil kept inside this hole in the ground from corrupting the modern world.”

“Fine, whatever you say,” Andy said. “It still doesn’t explain why you brought us here. Unless the unicorn speaks Manx.”

“This is just a prelude to prepare you for what you are about to see. The reason you are here is buried deep in subbasement 5. But first, we want you to meet our most recent guest. We think it’s someone you might recognise.”

Sun glanced anxiously at her husband, and saw he’d begun to sweat despite the cool temperature.

Kane motioned back towards the way they had come. Back towards the elevator. “Shall we head down?”

Chapter Six

In the elevator, Kane reached into his pocket and brought out two navy blue disks. They looked like a pair of rubber bath plugs. “Take these,” he said. “They will allow you limited access to the LED control panels and other parts of the facility. Just press them to the thumb scanners. Your temporary four-digit codes are 1-2-3-4. If you need me, just access the intercom function on any of the screens.”

Andy and Sun took the rubber disks and pocketed them.

Jerry flapped his arms. “What, no love for the J-man?”

“Son, you shouldn’t even be here. Just consider yourself lucky to be a spectator.”

“I prefer the term ‘watcher’,” Jerry said. “Has a nice ring to it. Jeremy Preston is… The Watcher.”

“Call yourself whatever you wish, Mr. Preston. Just make sure that you stay out of trouble. Or you will be Jeremy Preston… the departed.”

Jerry rolled his eyes. “That was lame.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” Sun said, clapping the boy on the shoulder.

Still picking up strays, Andy thought.

Kane sighed. “Yes, see that you do.”

The elevator stopped and the doors opened. Subbasement 5 was darker than the floors above. Unlike the rest of the facility, this area had not been recently refurbished. The walls were bare and cracked, with seams of mud pushing through from the surrounding earth. There were armed guards standing at the entrance. The uniforms they wore were not military, but more like black-ops, with pouches and utility belts in abundance. The insignia on their upper arm was a golden sword with clouds above it.

Andy tried to control his encroaching panic, but with each step his feet seemed heavier and his nerves shakier. He gripped Sun’s hand like she was dangling off the side of a cliff.

Kane glanced back over his shoulder. “What I want to show you is just down here. The cells up ahead are see-through. Six-inch bulletproof glass. It’s imperative that we can see what the guests are doing at all times. These are the really nasty ones.”

He marched ahead and stopped beside a pair of armed guards. He exchanged pleasantries with the two men while the rest of the group caught up. Andy peered into a cell as they passed it and stopped when he noticed movement. There were piles of hay on the floor, and one of them shifted as he stared.

Then something from the opposite side of the room scuttled towards the door and took Andy by surprise. He pulled back from the hatch and let out an involuntary yelp.

“You’re perfectly safe,” said Kane. “There are two females inside. The males fight when not kept alone. The main colony is in Moscow. These two were lent to us for scientific study. Their venom is quite toxic. It explodes living tissue.”

Andy leaned back up against the hatch and peered inside again. The creatures he saw inside were no different than harvestmen spiders—also known as daddy longlegs, except a hundred times as big. The two jet-black arachnids had oval bodies the size of an exercise ball, and their spindly legs spread out a span of three meters, each thick as a man’s wrist.

The hair on the back of Andy’s neck pricked up.

The two gigantic spiders moved toward the hatch, their mandibles chittering. Venom dripped from fangs the size of steak knives.

“Ugh, I hate spiders,” Jerry said, grimacing. “I read about a dude in Australia who was bitten by a funnel web. The tissue rotted straight off the bone.”

The partially desiccated corpse of a small pig was partially covered in webbing, and on the floor of the cell were bones.

“Sheep bones,” Sun guessed.

She would know. Sun had had a lot of experience with sheep.

“What I mean to show you is over here,” Kane said. “Please come and take a look.”

Here goes, thought Andy.

He took a deep breath and peered through the glass. Cell 4 was nothing but a large white room with a stone bench, hay scattered around the floor.

“I don’t see anything. Did you bring me here just to see a bench?”

Kane cleared his throat. “Look up, Mr. Dennison-Jones.”

Andy craned his neck and glanced towards the room’s ceiling.

Behind him, Sun gasped. “Oh God.”

Jerry whistled in awe. “It’s that demon! He’s real!”

Andy glared at the batling in the cell. It was a mini version of the abomination he and Sun had faced off against years ago. The thing that had almost killed them both—and had succeeded in killing most of their colleagues. Its flesh was a muddy red color, matted with coarse fur. Its muscular arms bore talons, and its feet ended in goat-like hoofs.

Andy’s eyes narrowed at the creature. “Bub…”

“I understand that you have met before,” Kane said.

Andy nodded, not taking his eyes off the subject of his recurring nightmares. The demon hovered eight feet above the ground, the black, leathery wings sprouting from its back flapping as fast as Andy’s heartbeat. It had the same malevolent, sideways-blinking eyes as its creator, and gave off the same barnyard smell, even through the thick glass.

Andy cleared his throat and ground his teeth. Then he turned to face Kane. “You have to destroy it.”

“That’s unacceptable.”

“Why? This thing is pure evil. Keeping it alive is just inviting disaster.”

Kane fiddled with his shirt cuffs momentarily and then folded his arms across his narrow chest. “As I understand it, there are many more of these things out there. Better that we learn what we can from this one so that we may have a better chance of destroying them all.”

“How many others?” Andy asked.

“You’re not cleared for that information.”

“The President said I had full access.”

“I’ll ask him when I speak to him again.”

Andy returned his gaze to the batling. The batling glared right back at him. “You’re making a mistake.”

“No. No, he’s not.” It was Sun speaking. Andy was surprised she didn’t agree with him. “We need to be smart about this,” she said. “Killing one would achieve nothing with so many more out there. What’s more important is figuring out what these things are up to, and where to find the rest.”

Andy closed his eyes and wished to be somewhere else, anyplace else but here. But it would be burying his head in the sand to not admit that his wife was right.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked Kane. “What are you going to do with this thing?”

Kane shrugged. “Discover all we can. Ms. Dennison-Jones, you’re welcome to pick up where you left off at Samhain. Tackle the situation from a biological standpoint; study the creature’s physiology, et cetera. We also need you both to try and communicate with it. Use your knowledge of Bub to try and find out as much as possible about what these ‘batlings’ are planning.”

“What about me?” Jerry asked.

Kane glared at him. “You stay out of the way and try not to give me any reason to shoot you.”

Jerry swallowed. “I can do that.”

“But this creature isn’t the main reason you were brought here,” Kane said. “There is something else we want you to see. Or, more specifically, something that wants to see you.”

That raised goosebumps all over Andy’s body.

“Those aren’t air vents,” Sun said, pointing to large, square holes in the walls in between cells. They looked like chutes, and were large enough for a man to crawl into. “I hope they don’t lead outside.”

“They do not. I’m afraid we learned some difficult lessons after Samhain, Ms. Dennison-Jones. In case of an uncontainable security breach, the entire Spiral is rigged to fill with a quick-mix concrete. Anything alive down here will be fossilised within minutes of the concrete setting, while the floors above would remain unaffected. The elevator shaft would also be filled in and sealed.”

“Bub has been buried once before. It didn’t hold him.”

“The nearest Deus Manus facility is in Texas. They’d send a clean-up team to make sure nothing was left alive. But it is a moot point, because the cells are escape proof. Now follow me.”

Kane led them further down the corridor. They passed by a whole host of monstrosities along the way.

There was a hairy, snarling beast that looked a lot like the classical description of a werewolf. Its black fur was matted. It growled at them with canine teeth ten centimeters long.

A large, regal-looking creature that was equal parts eagle and lion. The front of its body was like a bird of prey, its hindquarters like that of a jungle cat—a griffon, if Andy knew his mythological creatures.

A dinosaur, similar to the velociraptors Jerry had mentioned, but taller and thicker and covered with red and orange feathers. The LED screen next to it said it was an Achillobator. It was standing still, swaying left to right, its plumed, striped tail swishing.

There was also a humanoid creature that could have passed for a man if not for its dislocated lower jaw and dagger-like teeth sticking out through the torn flesh of its cheeks. Its eyes were jet-black, with pupils so large that the whites were not at all visible. Its fingertips were barbed like fish hooks, and it glared at them with malice and utter hatred as they walked by its cell.

Really don’t want to be trapped in a room with that thing. Or any of these things.

Up ahead, the transparent cells were coming to an end. Another elevator punctuated the conclusion of the corridor. As Andy approached the final cell he glanced hesitantly inside, wondering what horror he would see next, but he was surprised to find a perfectly normal-looking, middle-aged man, sitting in a chair. The handsome male was dressed in tweed slacks, a fancy collared shirt, and a long grey overcoat. He watched Andy with bright eyes.

“And this is the reason we’ve called you here,” Kane said.

The man stood, walking slowly to the glass partition. He said, “Ayr Ain, t’ayns Niau, Caſherick dy rou dt’ennym, Di jig dty Reereeaght.”

It was the language of the Isle of Man. Manx. It was also very familiar.

Andy answered in kind, “Dt’aigney dy rou jeant er y Talloo myr t’ayns Niau, Cur dooin nyn Arran jiu as gagh laa.”

The man smiled, apparently pleased. In a thick Irish brogue he said, “Welcome to Project Monstrum, Andrew Dennison-Jones.”

General Kane stepped forward, eyes wide. “You speak English.”

“I speak many languages, General. Manx is an oldie but a goody, as they say. Did you know the last native speaker of Manx died in 1974? Languages, just like species, can go extinct if the situation warrants it.”

Andy studied the prisoner. The man had messy brown hair that fell down to his shoulders, and an umber carpet of stubble clung to his face.

“Quid est tibi nomen?” Andy asked. What is your name?

“Ah, Latin. Another dead language, unless you count those cheeky religious bucks trying to keep it around. My friends call me Lucas. Thrilled to make your acquaintance, so I am.”

The way the man said ‘thrilled’ sounded like ‘trilled’.

“A pleasure,” said Andy. “So, what are you… in for?”

“We’re not sure,” Kane interrupted. “Lucas has the distinction of being unlike any of the other residents housed here.”

“Why’s that?” Sun asked.

“He’s here voluntarily. We never captured him. Seven days ago he just appeared inside this cell and has been here ever since. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep. He’s not even organic as far as our tests can find.”

Lucas continued to smile pleasantly.

Sun cleared her throat and took a second look at the man inside the cell. “Not organic. What do you mean?”

“I mean his blood tests contain no DNA, and his tissue samples are inconclusive. It’s almost like he isn’t a living creature.”

“Your definition of life is a tad limited, General.” He glanced at Sun. “How does modern science define life, Dr. Dennison-Jones?”

“It’s something structurally composed, which regulates its environment. It has a metabolism. It grows. It adapts. It reproduces. Responds to stimuli.”

“Can’t the same be true of fire? Or electro-magnetism? Or the earth itself? The bloody great stars in the sky, for that matter?”

“It has a consciousness,” Sun said.

“Do algae have consciousness?”

“Maybe they do.”

“And maybe the earth does as well. Perhaps you should be less concerned with defining life, and more concerned with what the world is trying to tell yee.”

“What is the world trying to tell us?” Andy asked.

The man smiled sweetly. “That we’re all buggered.”

General Kane frowned. “Until now, he’s only spoken in Manx. Except for three English words that he kept repeating.”

“What were they?” Andy asked, but he realized he already knew.

“They were Andrew Dennison-Jones,” Kane answered.

“Did anyone tell him about me?” Andy asked.

“Not that we know of.”

“When did he start asking? I’ve only been Dennison-Jones for less than a day.”

“Just after he arrived.”

“Lucky guess,” Lucas said, shrugging his shoulders and grinning.

“How is it you have no DNA?” Sun asked.

Lucas shrugged. “More luck, I suppose. DNA is a killer, you know. Everything with DNA dies.”

“So how do your cells multiply?”

“If they multiplied, I’d be double me size! I’d have to get me some new clothes, I would.”

Andy stared at Lucas. Lucas stared back with an amiable smile on his face. There was nothing to suggest the man was anything more than a forty-year old Irish rogue.

“Unafanya nini hapa?” Andrew asked. What are you doing here, in Swahili.

“Mimi kuzungumza na wewe.” I am talking to you.

“Do you know my name?” Jerry asked, getting in on the exchange.

Lucas seemed to regard the youth for a moment. “Is it important for me to, Jerry-lad? You wouldn’t remember, but we’ve met before.”

“When?”

“At a pub in your home town.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’m not asking you to. You don’t need to listen to me, nor seek my approval. I’m not your father. You should go home and make up with Ben while there’s still time.”

Jerry backed away, his jaw going slack.

Andy asked in Croatian. “Zašto želiš ovdje?” Why do you want me here?

“You’ll know in due time, Mr. Dennison-Jones. I’m sure Austin wants you to meet the rest of the team, and no doubt you’re hungry. We’ll have a chat later.”

Lucas sat back in his chair. Further attempts to engage him were ignored with polite nods. Eventually, General Kane led the group down the hall.

“What was it you said to him at the start?” Kane asked.

“He was reciting the Lord’s Prayer in Manx. I filled in the next few lines. Apparently he can also speak Latin, Swahili, and Croatian.”

“He’s an enigma, that one. We haven’t had any idea what to do with him, which is why we had to call on you. He smiles all the time, and has been cooperative, but something about him is… wrong.”

“You mean the fact that he seems to know everything, can come and go at will, and has no DNA?” Sun asked.

“It’s more than that.” Kane reached the elevator and folded his thin arms across his chest. “Of all the mysteries the Spiral contains, he’s the biggest. He might also be the most dangerous.”

Chapter Seven

While Sun and Andy went to meet their new colleagues, Jerry was escorted to his room by some dick with a gun, who practically frogmarched him inside. The whole experience left Jerry feeling abused and upset.

Story of my life.

At least the new digs were pretty sweet. The living quarters they’d provided him were almost as big as the two-bedroom flat he used to share with his mother back at home, back before she’d…

Got to stop thinking about the past, dude. Dwelling has got me in enough trouble already. I can’t even go back home because of what I did.

Still, I landed on my feet with this place. I came to America to get a website interview and ended up in a real life episode of the X-Files. I’m like a cooler Fox Mulder.

And that vet chick would make a pretty good Scully.

Except that she’s married. And way out of my league.

And old. She has to be in her mid-thirties.

Jerry decided to take a load off. He lay down on the room’s plush double bed and stared up at the ceiling.

This is so messed up.

I’m alone in a strange country, and now I’ve ended up stumbling across something so top secret it blows away my wildest dreams. They’re not going to let me leave; not after what I’ve seen. I don’t even want to think about those giant spiders. Shite!

They have the entire freaking cast of Hammer Horror down here in the flesh. I swear one of those things I saw was a goddamn werewolf.

No, no way will they’ll let me go after seeing all this.

Even if they do, all I have to look forward to is getting nicked by the Old Bill as soon as I set foot back home.

My life is over one way or another.

Be careful what you wish for…

Jerry reached into his back pocket and pulled out his iPhone. No signal, naturally, but there was WiFi. Password protected, though. He scrolled through his photos until he found a picture of his best friend, Ben. Somehow that weird guy, Lucas, had known about him. He also claimed to know Jerry. The strange thing was, Jerry sort of felt the same way. Sometimes he had weird nightmares of being trapped with a group of strangers in a pub because it wouldn’t stop snowing outside, and he could almost—but not quite—recall someone like Lucas in those dreams. It was the feeling of having memories that were not his own that had first led him to trying to find out the truth behind conspiracies. It turned out that he was right to, because he had stumbled right into the middle of one now.

He flipped through a few more pics, found a selfie of him and Ben in Ben’s Dad’s video shop, standing in front of a wall of DVDs.

Wonder what you’re up to, buddy. Hope you’re okay.

But Jerry knew that his friend was not okay. Not after what had happened.

Wouldn’t be surprised if you never speak to me again. I really wish you were here, though, ‘cus this place would blow your mind. All of the times we spent discussing horror movies, and aliens, and government secrets, and I end up in a place like this.

Ben was a large part of the reason Jerry began the Stop Government Secrets website. He’d always told Jerry he was wasting his time, living without purpose, so Jerry had given himself a purpose. To uncover the truth behind all the weird rumors and stories and conspiracies he and Ben always joked about. That had led him to learning about Samhain. After hundreds of hours of research and training—and yes, computer hacking did require a lot of training—Ben had connected Samhain to Andy and Sun, and had hatched a plan to interview them in person. Get them to the Comics and Conspiracies Convention, pretend to be a fanboy, and then befriend them until they trusted him enough to spill the truth.

And then…

And then betray that earned trust by putting their secrets on his website.

Shit, I’m a total shit. No wonder no one likes me.

I don’t even like myself.

Jerry felt a tear well up in the corner of his eye. He quickly sprang up off the bed to keep it from taking root. The key was to occupy himself. Sitting still or lying down would let in all of his regret, and there was way too much of it for a coward like him to bear.

Maybe I deserve whatever happens to me. If a bunch of gits-in-black knock on my door and make me ‘disappear’, maybe I’ll finally find some peace again. Maybe I’ll manage to get some sleep finally.

Even if it ends up being permanent.

Jerry located the suite’s bathroom and stripped naked for a shower. He hoped the hot water would burn the bad thoughts right out of his head.

It didn’t.

Chapter Eight

General Kane led Andy and Sun into a vast room. Like the ‘Nucleus’ upstairs it was full of desks, computers, and various hi-tech equipment that seemed to do nothing useful other than blink and beep. Andy found it mightily impressive.

Wonder if it all runs on Windows Illuminati.

Kane strolled over to a large conference desk taking up the center of the room and pulled up a seat for Sun. She sat. Andy found himself a chair beside her. He looked around, observing the room in closer detail.

There were several offices that led off from the central room. People in lab coats occupied some of them, but most were empty. At the far side of the room, chatting in a huddle, were three men wearing black-op suits and shouldering mean-looking assault rifles that didn’t fit any design which Andy knew of. Behind them was a door, labelled: LABS 1-4.

“This is the conference room,” Kane said. “This is where you and the team will share notes and make use of the more basic research equipment. Each member of the inner staff also has their own private office, but the efforts here are mostly communal. In other words, everyone shares what they know with each other rather than sitting on information to further their own agenda. There is no individual glory here—it’s all about the mission.”

Andy wondered how that was working out. In Andy’s experience, personal growth and reward were driving forces. When those were removed, people became lazy.

Kane continued.

“There are four fully-equipped labs down here, to which everyone has access, under the supervision of Dr. Gornman. I am in charge here, but beyond that everybody has their own autonomy within their own specific area of research. You take orders from me and no one else. That needs to be very clear.”

Andy and Sun said nothing, but both nodded.

Kane leaned forward to reach an intercom unit set into the middle of the desk. He pressed a button and said, “Can I have everyone in the conference room, please, to meet our newest additions?”

They sat in silence for a few moments while people started to funnel out of the adjacent offices. Each of the newcomers pulled up a chair at the large desk. It began to resemble a meeting of the joint-chiefs.

“Okay,” Kane said. “We have over fifty people in this facility, but this is the main team. Allow me to start the introductions. Everyone, this is Andrew and Sun Dennison-Jones. Andrew knows several dozen languages, and was summoned by the President himself to communicate with the Manx man. Sun is a veterinarian. They were both assigned to Project Samhain, and were there when it… ended.”

Andy stared at the blank faces regarding him, and decided smiling and waving was the wrong way to go. Instead he nodded curtly.

Kane indicated a large man in one of the black ops suit. The guard had a long raggedy Rasputin beard and biceps the size of melons. On his belt was a huge sidearm, a pager, a knife, a leather pouch, and a police baton. Two equally-large black men flanked him on either side.

“This is Sergeant Steve Rimmer, head of Spiral security. Either side of him are his team leaders, Mike Handler and Tyler West. Any security breaches, or personnel conflicts, will be dealt with by Rimmer and his team.

Rimmer nodded but didn’t speak. Handler and West both said hello and smiled.

“Next we have Dr. Larry Chandelling, who is our lead scientist and head of information technology. Any tissue samples you need analysing will go through him and his team of assistants. Likewise, any questions about our computer systems here should be directed his way.”

“Glad to be working with you,” the doctor warmly said. He was a skinny, middle-aged, weasel-featured man, but wore a friendly smile. “I’d be very interested in hearing about Samhain, and sharing notes.”

Kane waved a hand. “We can get to that later, Dr. Chandelling.” He moved on. “Our Head of Medicine is Dr. Thandi Gornman. She holds doctorates in Medicine and Psychiatry and has overall control of the labs. Dr. Gornman will dispense any drugs that you may need for personal use or for the care of the various guests we contain. She is also quite the expert with our IT systems here, but try not to bother her unless absolutely necessary. She runs a tight ship.”

Dr. Gornman had short, straight black hair and sharp features. She appraised them from behind horn-rim spectacles and seemed to frown at what she saw. “Do any of you have any medical conditions I need to know about? Diabetes, for instance. Or depression. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Sun shook her head. Andy considered his hemorrhoids, and decided to stay quiet.

“Then I don’t expect to see very much of you, except for mandatory weekly sessions. We can schedule them soon.”

“What is that?” Sun asked.

Kane answered. “The stress of working in a secret underground facility, surrounded by monsters, tends to accumulate. The powers that be deemed it wise to have a full-time psychiatrist available to the staff. Everyone meets with Dr. Gornman once a week to chat.”

“Does that chat include a psych eval?” Sun asked.

Gornman smiled placidly, like the head shrink she was. “No one judges, here. But if I feel someone is unfit for duty, they are removed from the facility.”

Kane clasped his hands in front of him. “Thank you, Dr. Gornman. Finally, let me introduce Gwen Nester. She works in the library which is located to the east side of this room.”

A young redhead directly opposite Andy gave a warm smile. “Call me Nessie. I’m the facility’s expert on ancient theology and belief structures. The boring stuff.”

“If you don’t mind me saying, you look young,” Andy noted.

Nessie shrugged her shoulders but didn’t seem to take offence at the comment. “I’m afraid there’s very little interest in cultures from three thousand years ago. There’s a limited talent pool to pick from. My predecessor sadly passed away this year. But I have devoted my entire adult life to studying the ancient world, so I promise you I know more than enough to be of use. Plus I used to watch The History Channel obsessively, back when it used to, you know, actually air history programs.” Nessie cleared her throat. “That was a joke, by the way.”

Andy smiled politely, but he wondered if Nessie might be a liability. She was mid-twenties and brimming with positivity, but neither of those things tended to help when you were fighting for your life against hellspawn.

“Pleased to meet you all,” Sun said.

“Me, too,” Andy concurred. “Has work already begun on analysing the batling?”

There was a collection of frowns and grunts around the table. Kane addressed the confusion. “Mr. and Ms. Dennison-Jones refer to our new arrival as a ‘batling’.”

Dr. Chandelling nodded and looked amused. “As good a name as any. I was calling it flying goat thingy. The official channels have been referring to it as a ‘faustling”’

“Have you discovered anything about it yet?” Sun asked.

“Not much.” Nessie frowned. “It was captured in the woods above the entry hatch a few days ago.”

The Head of Security, Rimmer, pulled at his scraggly beard and sniffed. “The weekly perimeter sweep discovered a pile of bodies in the clearing above. Dead mule deer, bobcats, big horn sheep. It was as if an alpha-predator had started wiping out all of the local fauna. When one of our security teams went out to investigate they found your batling feasting on the carcass of a cougar. They opened fire and tore the thing to pieces before bringing the remains underground. Within the hour it had completely healed and come back to life. Our subsequent attempts to harm it have resulted in temporary injuries at best.”

“Bub could regenerate by manipulating his DNA, and the DNA of other organic matter,” Sun explained. “He’s got these—stingers—in his palms. They’re like syringes. He uses them to inject some sort of DNA mutator serum into tissue. He created the batlings, and looked exactly like them, only larger. Stands to reason they have the same ability to heal as he did.”

Dr. Gornman nodded. There was a hint of disdain on her face, a slight narrowing of her eyes and downturn of her pointed nose. “That much is quite obvious. We need to discover the source of the ability, though. If we can harness the ability to heal instantly we can transform mankind. Just think of a world without injury, without disability. We would be the saviors of the human race.”

Sun leaned in closer. “You don’t think people tried figuring that out at Samhain? They had Bub locked up for over a century and gained nothing from him. It’s tempting fate to even try. Stopping him should be our only priority.”

“The Samhain facility was a relic, improperly administrated,” Gornman said. “Human error, and faulty protocol led to the security breaches there. Bub should have been brought here when he was discovered.”

“Why wasn’t he?”

“President Roosevelt didn’t trust anyone but the US to keep an eye on him,” Gornman answered. “Which turned out to be a huge mistake. They should have brought the creature to us, or to another Deus Manus facility. We have the very best security, the best technology, and the very best minds.”

“Okay,” Sun said. “Then I’ll ask again, what have you learned so far?”

Gornman made a face. “Nothing conclusive yet, but tests are ongoing. It’s just a matter of time until—”

“So you have nothing.”

Gornman folded her arms.

“We know that the thing does not sleep,” Dr. Chandelling said, scratching at his pockmarked chin. “We know that it feels pain, but not always. It can’t be killed. It doesn’t seem to get sick. We bombarded it with a few simple strains of flu and chickenpox. It contracted neither.”

“You can try every virus you have,” Sun told them. “Nothing will have any effect. The only thing we found that hurt Bub was radiation—and even that didn’t finish the job.”

Dr. Chandelling nodded rapidly. “Yes, yes. I read your debriefing after Samhain. I heard that you hit Bub with a huge dose of rads. I would be very excited to hear your experiences first-hand.”

“It’s not something we’re particularly comfortable talking about,” Sun said, “but we’ll share what we know. That batling you have locked up is part of something bigger. It can’t be a coincidence you caught it nearby. We need to figure out what Bub’s game is.”

Gornman shook her head slightly. “You’re over-reacting. Deus Manus has kept watch over thousands of dangerous creatures for thousands of years. We are more than equipped to handle a single batling.”

“Bub isn’t a giant spider or an imp,” Andy said. “He wanted to enslave mankind. And he had the means to do it. If that batling knows what Bub knew, and has his abilities, you all better put on some long rubber boots because we’re in some seriously deep shit.”

Gornman frowned. “The mistakes at Samhain were a combination of human and technical error. That can’t happen here. We’re much more technologically advanced than you were, and our staff is more experienced. It takes years to be inducted into the Order. Many, such as Dr. Nester here, are groomed since college to be inducted. The batling will be contained. The only threat to this operation is newcomers who don’t understand the protocol.”

Andy leaned forward on the table like an angry cop doing an interrogation, except he was the one being scrutinised. “I couldn’t care less about your Order. But if you treat that demon like it’s just another attraction in your crazy little zoo, it’s going to kill you, me, everyone here, and the whole goddamn world.”

“At ease,” Kane ordered. Then he addressed Gornman. “Andrew and Sun Dennison-Jones are here at the insistence of the President. They have full access to anything they need, and you’ll listen to what they’re saying. That’s an order.”

Gornman didn’t seem to like it. “What about that straggler you brought in with you? The English boy?”

“How do you even know about him?” Kane asked.

“It’s my job to know what’s going on around here, Austin.”

“No, Dr. Gornman, it is not. That is my job, and you may address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘General’. Now go and wait in my office.”

Gornman popped up from her seat, spun around and marched away with her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Andy winced. For a psychiatrist she seems to have some serious emotional issues.

“What’s with the Manx man?” Sun asked around. “What do you know about him?”

Dr. Chandelling sat up in his seat and grinned. “He’s very interesting, very fascinating. He’s like nothing we’ve ever seen before. Every test we run on him comes up implausible. He has cells, but no DNA, either in the nucleus or mitochondria. He has blood, but we can’t type it. No antibodies, no antigens, no leucocytes, no platelets—just plasma and red cells. He doesn’t eat, sleep, or…you know, go to the toilet. He’s just there, chatting away happily in that strange language.”

Andy rubbed a fingertip against the bridge of his nose and had a quick think. “Don’t you find it a bit weird?”

“It’s extremely weird,” Nessie said. “He’s kinda cute, though. I mean, in a devilish rogue sort of way.” When no one answered, Nessie looked at her shoes and said, “Nevermind.”

“I meant the timing,” Sun said. “Right before you catch the batling, you also have a mysterious, non-human stranger turn up and ask for Andy?”

“The timing could be entirely coincidental,” Dr. Chandelling said. “We can’t find any correlation between the two. The batling has terrestrial relatives. Lucas, as you call him, is something else entirely. They don’t seem to be related, at least, not organically.”

“Maybe spiritually?” Nessie said. She’d apparently recovered from her embarrassment. “Many ancient texts delve into the war between light and darkness, good and evil. It’s woven throughout history, regardless of culture or time. When the evil spirit shows up, a savior appears.”

“You think the Manx man is the savior?” Andy asked.

Nessie shook her head. “He could be. But he also fits into the mold of a prophet. Someone who foretells of a savior. Remember… he gave us your name, Mr. Dennison-Jones.”

Andy frowned.

If I’m the savior, then we’re all doomed.

Chapter Nine

Who do they think they are?

Dr. Gornman paced the floor of Kane’s office on level 2. The carpet beneath her feet was a deep pile and her heels caught every few steps, adding to her frustration.

I’ve dedicated the best part of ten years of my life to this facility. Is this any way to repay me? Letting outsiders come in and undermine me? Who does Kane think he is, chastising me in front of them? Without me his precious facility would grind to a halt. It’s not like that incompetent, misogynist fool, Chandelling, could take charge if I decided to leave.

That’s exactly what I should have done years ago. Left. With my experience I could work in any lab in the world. I only came here because I mistakenly thought I was doing some good in the world. But that was nothing but a fantasy. This isn’t God’s work. The Spiral is nothing but a prison—and like any prison it is ineffectual and does nothing to change the inmates. All we’re doing is warehousing a bunch of creatures that could be of real benefit if we actually did something with them other than keep them in cages.

This whole place is a paean to old-fashioned thinking. A bunch of flashy new computers doesn’t change that.

I could have gone somewhere else, where my skills would be appreciated, instead of deep down in this cesspool where nothing worthwhile ever happens.

But then, I would have missed out on these recent events…

“Dr. Gornman?” Kane entered the office and moved over to his desk. “Please, take a seat.” He gestured to the chair opposite.

Gornman dumped herself down, folded her arms.

Kane leaned forward on his desk and sighed. “Look, Doctor. You are a valued member of this team and undoubtedly the brightest person here.”

Gornman blinked. She wasn’t about to be swayed by flattery. She knew she was smarter than anyone at the Spiral—she didn’t need an antique General to tell her that.

“But when we have guests at this facility, it is our obligation to welcome them and to accommodate their needs.”

Gornman stayed completely neutral.

A twinge of frustration—perhaps even anger—flashed across Kane’s face. “The Dennison-Joneses are here at the request of the President via the Director of Homeland Security, who may I remind you is the Grand Registrar of the Order, like his father, and grandfather before him. We are sworn to follow his instructions to the letter. That is the oath you made, Dr. Gornman. Am I correct?”

“Yes.”

“So you will work alongside the Dennison-Joneses and avoid acrimony. But most of all, you will never again question my authority or circumvent my command of this facility. Is that clear, Dr. Gornman?”

Gornman gave no answer.

“Is. That. Clear?”

Gornman said softly, “Yes, it’s clear, General. I understand. I understand that my time here has amounted to absolutely nothing at all.”

Kane remained sitting. He kept his tone calm. “You are an ordained knight of the most secretive organization in existence, with access to secrets beyond most people’s imagination. But, as always, you are free to give that up. You can retire your membership and leave any time you want.”

You wish I would. But I have other plans.

“I advise against that, however,” Kane continued, “because your commitment here has not gone un-noted. I’m an old man, Dr. Gornman, and there are not as many Generals to replace me as there once were. The time of personnel-laden wars is over. Drones and computers have replaced flesh and courage. The Order does not have access to the human resources it once did.”

Gornman stayed silent, letting the man talk. It was one of her strengths.

“You heard about Oklahoma? Their new Head of Facility?”

Gornman nodded. “Dr. Gary?”

Kane blinked slowly. “Yes, Doctor Gary. The order is changing its policies. It is no longer a given that a facility head position is only available to those who have served in the military. Before Dr. Gary was promoted, he was doing your job.”

“Are you saying that I could be in charge here?”

Kane nodded. “I am saying that you most likely will be in charge when I’m gone. But only if you show that you can follow orders and respect the chain of command. The Senior Wardens won’t accept someone questioning them.”

Gornman took it in, made it fit into her head. Then she nodded. “I understand. I wasn’t thinking about the bigger picture. I allowed my ego to take over. I felt like I wasn’t being given the credit I was due.”

“The thing about credit, Dr. Gornman, is that it takes a long time to accrue but can be lost in a heartbeat.”

“I won’t question you again.”

“Good. You can go now.”

Gornman stood up and hurried for the door.

“And Dr. Gornman,” Kane said before she exited.

Gornman turned around. “Yes?”

“One more thing. I was reviewing some security footage, and saw you at Cell 4 with the faustling. You were holding pieces of paper up to the glass but not speaking.”

That’s because I didn’t want you hearing me, you voyeuristic fossil. I knew you had nothing better to do than spy on your personnel.

“I was showing it some pictures, trying to gauge its intellect.”

“What pictures?”

“A variety. Animals, landmarks, famous people. Just trying to provoke a response. Obviously it didn’t work. Its first communication was with the Dennison-Joneses.”

General Kane tapped his fingers together. “I see. Dismissed.”

Gornman left the office, hiding her smile as she did.

Chapter Ten

Breakfast was as over-the-top as everything else in the Spiral, and Andy’s stomach had been overwhelmed by the selection offered by the cafeteria buffet on level 4. Through the kind of anomaly only possible at breakfast buffets, he had somehow ended up with a bowl of muesli, a plate of eggs, several slices of bacon, some yogurt, and a banana. It was a strange selection, but he wasted no time in digging into it all.

Sun had opted for a lighter breakfast of an apple and two slices of toast.

Both of them had slept well; the bed in their suite being even softer than the one they had been given in the Coronado the night before. Now that a new day had begun, they were both ready to get to work.

“I can’t believe how different this place is from Samhain.” Andy said as Sun bit into her Granny Smith. “The produce alone is a revelation.”

Samhain had fed its staff from two large freezers, with deliveries being sparse.

“I guess things have changed,” she said. “Now the government hides its secrets in plain sight. They probably bring supplies in here every day and gag any attempts to bring attention to it. The Press may as well have their paychecks signed directly by the US treasury these days.”

Andy bit a strip of bacon in half. “I wouldn’t doubt it. This place is pretty amazing, though. It must have cost billions.”

“Let’s just hope they spent it wisely.”

Jerry came over with a plateful of sausages and a tall glass of orange juice. He was wearing a white T-shirt with StopGovernmentSecrets.com emblazoned across the chest, obviously an iron-on made with a desktop printer. He took a seat at their table and noticed Sun appraising his large stack of pork-links. He shrugged. “I’m cutting out carbs,” he said, before tucking in like a starving caveman.

“There are carbs in the OJ,” Andy said.

“I know. But those are liquid carbs, not food carbs.”

Andy considered telling him there wasn’t a difference, but decided there wasn’t any point.

After devouring several of the dozen sausages, Jerry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sipped his juice. Then he pulled a face. “These sausages are tiny. The ones in England are big and fat, much nicer.”

“Maybe they have a suggestion box,” Sun offered.

Jerry took a big gulp of orange juice. “So all the rumors about Project Samhain, keeping ol’ Scratch under lock and key, those are true?”

Andy put down his knife and fork and laced his fingers together in front of him, elbows on the table. “You know you’re sworn to secrecy, right?”

Jerry nodded. “Big bloke named Rimmer came to see me last night, made me sign a stack of papers while he flexed his biceps, trying to look mean. Said if I ever said anything about this place to anyone, he’d make sure I ended up having an uncomfortable experience with that unicorn on subbasement 1.”

Andy and Sun exchanged a glance. It felt strange to be talking about it, since they hadn’t in so long, but Andy eventually said, “It’s true.”

“Was it actually the devil?”

Sun nodded. “It was like the batling in the cell on Level 5. Only a lot bigger.”

“But was it Satan?”

“Let me put it this way,” Andy said, pushing away his plate. “If Satan does exist, Bub was a prime candidate.”

Concern crossed Jerry’s face. “If it was, is, Satan, that means there’s a heaven and hell, don’t it?”

Sun said, “I don’t know, Jerry. It could be.”

“So we could actually be punished for eternity for things we’ve done in the past?”

“It depends on the religion and the dogma,” Sun answered. “Is it true that you’re wanted by the police back in the UK?”

Jerry’s expression became even bleaker. “I robbed some money from a tosser. He had it coming.”

“But you’re wanted,” Sun said. “Aren’t your parents worried about you?”

Jerry started shovelling more sausages into his mouth, swallowing them down in loud gulps. When he was done he let out a long sigh. “I don’t have any parents. My mom died last year of lung cancer and my dad… my dad is the ‘tosser’ I stole from.”

“I’m sorry about your mother,” said Sun. “You must really miss her.”

Jerry nodded. “She was the only person that ever really cared about me—well, her and my best friend, Ben. But now he won’t even talk to me after what I did.”

“Why not? What did you do?” asked Sun.

“Never mind. I don’t want to get into it. What are you guys up to today?”

Sun smiled, seemingly content not to push the subject. “We’re heading back down to level 5,” she said. “Did you want to tag along?”

Andy shot his wife a stare, but she ignored it.

Jerry’s face lit up. “Yeah, I would really like to. Even if I can’t tell anyone.”

“Knowledge for the sake of knowledge,” Sun said. “A noble pursuit.”

Andy cleared his throat to gain the floor. “What we’re doing is going to be very dangerous, Jerry. You need—”

“I won’t be any trouble. I’ll do whatever you tell me to. Just let me come.” He stared at Andy for what seemed like ages and then said, “Please, man. I need this.”

Andy sighed. “Okay, fine, but don’t get in the way. And follow every direction we give you.”

Jerry smiled and nodded.

“Okay,” Sun said. “Looks like our new research team is ready to go. Let’s head downstairs.”

They left the cafeteria and headed down to level 5 via the large, buttonless elevator, calling out the level in order to do so. As they walked, they met General Kane in the corridor. He was standing outside one of the cells and glaring at whatever was inside. At one point he even stabbed his finger against the glass and raised his voice.

Kane saw them coming and stood to attention. “Ah, Mr. and Ms. Dennison-Jones. Good to see you up and about so early. Shows a good work ethic. And Mr. Preston, am I to understand that you will be accompanying them?”

“If that’s okay,” said Jerry. “I promise not to get in the way.”

“Just remember what I said and behave yourself. Anything you do, I will hold the Dennison-Joneses accountable for. Bear that in mind.”

Jerry nodded.

Andy glanced inside the nearby cell—cell number 5. It belonged to the werewolf creature. The animal seemed to be glaring intently at Kane, snarling as he did so.

“You two know each other?” Andy asked.

Kane turned and glared into the cell again. He prodded his finger at the glass and the werewolf snarled louder. “Me and Fido here have a history. When I first started at the Spiral, I made the mistake of going inside his enclosure to take some samples.” He rolled up his left shirt cuff to reveal a gnarled streak of scar-tissue from his elbow to his wrist. “Not a mistake I’ll make again.”

“Can you change into a werewolf?” Jerry asked.

“What? No, of course not.”

“Then it isn’t a werewolf. It’s just a big wolf.”

“It doesn’t really matter what he is. He’s the last of his kind, so it won’t be long until werewolves really are just a figment of people’s imagination.”

Jerry moved up closer against the glass. He looked inside at the snarling beast. “He’s the last one?”

“Yes. There used to be more, but they grow old and die eventually. This one just turned eighty last month. Another thirty, forty years and he’ll be dead and buried.”

“Extinction shouldn’t be allowed,” Sun said, her veterinary background obviously speaking up. “Why haven’t you tried to breed them?”

“There aren’t any left to breed with.” Kane moved up closer to the glass and knelt down so that his eyes were level with the creature’s. “You hear that, Fido? Once you’re gone, your entire species will be finished. No more mongrels like you.”

The beast rumbled deep in its chest.

Jerry said, “Maybe he bit you because he doesn’t like being locked up. Or being called Fido.”

Kane shot him a stern glance, and the boy cowered.

Andy cleared his throat. “Where can we find you if we need you, General?”

Kane straightened up and adjusted his shirt. “My office is on level 2.” He strode off down the hall without another word.

Andy looked into the cell. The werewolf had stopped snarling and had padded away towards the back of the cell. There was a bundle of blankets and what looked like some rubber chew toys there.

“Dude doesn’t like Wolfie,” said Jerry. “Not surprised he chomped on that old fart. Don’t blame him for being grouchy when they lock him up like Hannibal Lector and tell him that his whole race is about to become extinct. That shit was cold.”

Sun nodded. “I understand that these creatures are considered dangerous, but if General Kane escaped with just a bite on the arm, he got off lucky. A wolf this big could have bitten him in half.”

Andy shrugged his shoulders. “The guy’s been here for years. Who knows what these animals have been responsible for in that time? Maybe everything in the Spiral really is evil. We only just got here. Let’s keep an open mind.”

Sun gave him a sideways glance. “Evil? Like that family of tiny imps upstairs? I would be surprised if they were any more evil or dangerous than foxes or badgers. They’re just animals. Animals that the church once decided it didn’t like the look of and shoved underground. Wouldn’t be the first time the Catholic Church buried something.”

“Sun,” Andy said. “We know evil exists, right?”

“If you want to get into a philosophical discussion of evil, Andy, we can leave out animals.”

“Bub wasn’t evil?”

“He was selfish. A murderer. He understood the misery he caused because he was self-aware. But you can’t apply that line of thinking to a wolf or a spider looking for a meal or defending itself.”

“You’d think differently if you were trapped in its web,” Andy said.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying it’s too soon to go all Greenpeace when we haven’t seen what any of these animals are capable of. Maybe Wolfie here is really a cuddly Corgi in his heart, but let’s give the two thousand year old secret society a little bit of credit before we start petting him, okay?”

Andy thought he’d angered his wife, but after a small hesitation she nodded.

Dr. Chandelling appeared at the end of the hallway. He waved a hand at them excitedly as he jogged towards them. “Ah, you’re all here. Wonderful. Eager to get started, I’ll bet.”

Sun waved back. “Good morning, doctor.”

“Good morning. Do you have your access fobs yet?”

Andy pulled the blue rubber disk from his pocket and examined it. “If you mean this thing, then, yeah.”

“Good. It will give you access to the cells if you punch in your code, but don’t do anything without informing General Kane and getting armed security guard assistance. That’s how we do things since the General’s, um, accident.” Chandelling gave a sideways glance into the werewolf cell.

“I think that guy is more of a cat person,” Jerry said.

“Yes, General Kane has a somewhat troubled relationship with our resident Canini. Working in the Spiral can place a strain on the strongest of people, but that’s a discussion for another day. Were you still intending to speak with the Manx man first, before the batling?”

Andy nodded. “We’re heading there now. He’s still in the cell at the end of the corridor?”

“He certainly is. Come on, I’ll take you folks over.”

They headed down the corridor towards the door where Dr. Chandelling had entered. Inside the final cell, Lucas was standing up against the glass, waiting as if he knew they were coming.

“Good morning, Dr. Chandelling. Andy. Jerry. Sun. How was your morning fry-up? Just toast for you, Sun-lass?”

Sun’s eyes widened. “Can you read my mind, Lucas?”

The man laughed. “Do I need to, when there are bread crumbs on your shirt?”

Sun looked down, then brushed herself off.

“Why are you here, Lucas?” Andy said. “Do you like being locked up?”

Lucas smiled. “Who says I’m locked up?”

“You can leave any time you want?”

Lucas nodded. “I could be anywhere. I chose to be here.”

“Why?” asked Andy. “Why are you here?”

Lucas grinned ear to ear. “I’m here to watch what you do, Andy. It all depends on you.”

Andy felt himself get goosebumpy again. “What does?”

“Armageddon,” Lucas said. “And I got meself a front row seat.”

Chapter Eleven

Kane sat down in his office and poured himself a whiskey. He always enjoyed having guests at the Spiral, it broke up the monotony of seeing the same old faces day in day out. But usually the guests were members of Deus Manus from other facilities. Andy and Sun Dennison-Jones were ordered to be here. It was obvious they’d rather be somewhere else, and Kane agreed they should be. It was hard enough maintaining control with eager volunteers, let alone begrudging ones.

The employees at the Spiral were allowed to come and go freely, but they were sworn to secrecy and were usually given some grand fiction to tell their families about why they worked away from home so much. It was really up to them what cover they used when leaving the base, so long as it stood up and was never questioned. Since the base itself was in the middle of a Mexican national park, commuting required a helicopter, but anyone who needed a weekend off or a vacation could easily put in a request.

Kane had not left the facility in years.

His work had long ago consumed him. The world had moved on and modernized to a point that he no longer recognized it. The last time he had ventured outside he’d visited his niece in Anaheim. It had been incredibly awkward.

People had changed. Everyone from children to grandparents now walked around with chirping phones attached to their heads. Computers had invaded the home of every family and nobody spoke to one another anymore. Even the roads had gone bad; clogged up with insane drivers honking their horns and barging in front of one another. No. No, thank you. Kane didn’t want to be a part of that world. He was meant for higher things, positions of quiet honor. He was meant to be right where he was, in the Spiral, doing God’s work.

Kane was also concerned by the presence of the English boy. Not only was he a foreign national, but he had a checkered history and seemed of no use to anyone. They couldn’t induct him into the Order, or trust him in any way. Kane had no idea what to do with young Jeremy Preston. But he would have to be dealt with, sooner or later.

Everything had to be dealt with, sooner or later.

Kane grabbed the phone on his desk and dialled an outside line. The call went through to his counterpart at the Texas facility.

“Kane, good to hear from you, old friend. How are things your end?”

“Good to hear from you, too, Robson. Things are clockwork over here. You know the saying: I’d rather be bored than fighting for my life.”

“What about your unexpected guest? The Manx guy. Any news?”

“He’s speaking English now, but not saying much. But the Manx man is not why I’m calling. I wanted to check in with you about the faustling—or the ‘batling’ as my people have taken to calling it. Not the one we have here; the one you have at your site.”

“It’s still here. Level 5. Safe and sound.”

“Any new developments?”

“No. It killed that cattle rancher downstate, but since it arrived here it’s been downright tame. Almost as if…”

“Yes?”

“I dunno. It’s almost as if it wants to be here. I know you shot yours to pieces before bringing it in, but this one didn’t even try to put up a fight. It just sat there, by the entrance, and let itself get caught.”

Kane slouched back in his chair, switched the phone from one side to the other. “You hear from Tulsa and Vancouver?”

“Yeah. They still have their faustlings safe and secure, too. I hear that England’s got one now as well.”

Kane lurched forwards. “The Kent facility?” That made more than a dozen sites now after Chile finding one in the hills of Santiago. “What are these things up to?”

“I don’t know, old buddy. I hear you have the survivors of Samhain with you. To tell you the truth the rest of us are all relying on you for answers. I’ve been trying to track down that other survivor of Samhain, Dr. Frank Belgium. Guy seems to have fallen off the grid. You’re the only one with any kind of information on these things, thanks to your guests.”

Kane sighed. “I’m not sure I’ll get anything useful from them. Samhain was a disaster and they were partly responsible. I don’t have much faith in their abilities.”

“Still, you have a better chance than the rest of us. It’s clear that these things are converging on our facilities. There has to be a reason.”

Kane rubbed at his chin and suddenly felt very tired and ancient. “I agree. I guess we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Stay safe, Robson.”

“You, too.”

But when General Kane hung up the phone, he didn’t feel safe. For the first time since he’d been attacked by that damned wolf years ago, Kane was afraid.

Chapter Twelve

“Why do you want to talk to me?” Andy asked the Manx man. “How do you even know who I am?”

Lucas was still grinning. “Oh, I know you well enough, lad. I know the very core of you. The brokenness and fear that you’ve carried with you ever since you went down that wretched hole in the desert.”

“You know about Samhain?”

“I know about lots of things. Everything from where to find the world’s best pint of bitter—that would be a little place in Scotland called the Clachaig Inn by the way—to what color underpants the Pope wears.” Lucas chuckled. “Purple, if you can believe it.”

“Fascinating,” Dr. Chandelling mumbled as he scribbled on a notepad.

Andy put his hands on the glass. “So are you going to be forthcoming and tell us the secrets of the universe?”

Lucas placed his palms against Andy’s. “I’m afraid I have to let you work things out for yourself, lad. I’m here to witness, and occasionally advise. But I’m not here to interfere.”

“Why not?”

“What is it those bouncy black fellas say in their delightful rap songs? Don’t hate the playa, hate the game. The rules have already been defined, the wheels already in motion. They see me rollin, they hatin.”

Jerry moved up beside Andy and folded his skinny arms across his chest. “Are you like a ghost or something? Why can’t they run any tests on you?”

Lucas turned his attention to Jerry and raised a fuzzy eyebrow. “Ah, young Jeremy Preston. Did you get hold of Ben, like I said?”

Jerry took a step backwards. “How the hell do you even know…?”

“Don’t worry, lad. Ben forgives you. Deep down, he forgives you. The two of you have been through a lot. Even more than you know or remember.”

Jerry frowned and turned away.

“It’s a valid question,” Sun told Lucas. “What exactly are you? You’re not human.”

“Few things in this place are, lass.”

“So what are you?”

“I am what I am. One of God’s creations, same as you, same as him.”

Dr. Chandelling mumbled something to himself, his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth as he took notes.

“You know for sure that God exists?” Andy asked.

“We can discuss the nature of God, but I’m not sure you’d be able to grasp it.” He glanced at Sun. “Any more than you would the nature of evil. Our perceptions become our realities, our reality clouds our perceptions, and our ideas and fears all get blended into the mixture, so by the end of the discussion you’d be more confused than when you started. But do you really want to talk about God, or about the fella a few doors down?”

Lucas glanced sideways as if he could see through the cement walls of his cell to where the batling was.

“Bub?” Andy asked.

“I know all about that cheeky little monkey, Bub. He had you believe he was a little grander than he really is.”

“You’re saying Bub isn’t dangerous?”

Lucas huffed. “Oh, no, that egotistical feck will quite happily wipe humanity off the face of the earth. And he’s strong and sly enough to do it. I’m just telling you not to give him more credit than he’s due. There is indeed a God, even though he’s mightily misrepresented and misunderstood. But there are other things, too. Things you have within these very walls that were nothing to do with God’s plan. God isn’t the only creator in this world.”

Andy’s eyes narrowed. “Bub.”

“Aye, Bub has his thumbprint on a few of the world’s more unpleasant surprises. People ask why God lets bad things happen to good people. The answer is because this world does not belong entirely to Him. There’s a power struggle. A battle between black, white, and every other color in between.” Lucas lowered his voice, and his bright expression soured. “This earth is a warzone—and the enemy is about to make a big move. You could think of this as D-Day, only this time it’s the Germans who are storming the beaches.”

“And which side are you on?” Sun asked.

“I’m in the stands, watching with a pint and a bag of crisps. But if it matters, I’m rooting for you folks. I’ve grown fond of you over the years. Sweet little things that you are.”

“Why not help us?” asked Andy.

“This isn’t my fight, lad. Tis not my place.”

Sun folded her arms. “Fine, but you still haven’t said what you want with my husband. You called him here.”

“Aye, I did. Whatever happens deep down in this hole in the ground is going to be on him. I’m just here to see the game play out. It should be very entertaining.”

“What about your history?” Andy said. “Are you from the Isle of Man?”

“I was. Once upon a time. Among other places.”

“Where have you lived?”

“Everywhere.”

“How many languages do you speak?”

Lucas beamed. “A few more than you.”

“How old are you?” Andy asked in Turkic.

“Very old. But don’t I look good?”

“Are you human?” in Russian.

“No. But close enough to get through airport security.”

“What are you?” in Cherokee.

“I came before man. Some say with the dawn.”

“What is your real name?” in Portuguese.

“I’ve gone by many names. Lucas has suited me for a while now.”

“Is this really Armageddon?” in Korean.

“That depends on how well you handle yourself.”

“Can you die?” in Sanskrit.

“That depends on the definition of death. Mr. Dennison-Jones, might I suggest that you pay less attention to me, and more to the little bugger plotting to destroy humanity?” Lucas made a head gesture toward the batling’s cell. “To use a sports analogy, you’re wasting time talking to the spectators when you should be out on the field, playing ball.”

Andy tried more questions, but Lucas sat down and smiled politely, staying silent, as he had yesterday. It was disappointing, not only because Lucas obviously knew more than he was letting on, but because Andy had many questions about ancient languages that he guessed this man—or whatever he was—could answer. Lucas was, quite frankly, astonishing.

The quartet eventually quit trying with the enigma in front of them, and went to visit the Spiral’s newest occupant. The one Andy had dreaded seeing again.

They headed twenty feet down the corridor until they were face-to-face with the batling. It hovered before them like a hummingbird, leathery wings flapping with tremendous speed. Like Bub, its metabolism was obviously extremely efficient.

“Dennnissson.”

It spoke in a deep voice, with a harsh rasp to it, a sound not dissimilar to raking autumn leaves. Andy heard that voice often in his nightmares. It wasn’t any more pleasant hearing it again for real.

Andy cleared his throat and said, “It’s Dennison-Jones now. Are you Bub?”

“Yeeeesssssssssssss.”

Though it was much smaller than the demon they’d encountered at Samhain, it was a perfect replica. Same hooves, same horns, same teeth. It also instilled the same fear. Andy had a powerful urge to run away, as fast and as far as possible.

“You remember us?” Sun asked. She looked just as skittish as Andy felt.

Bub’s eyes widened. Its pupils were horizontal, like that of a goat.”Weeeeee reeeemeeeember.”

“How is that possible?” Andy asked. “How can it retain Bub’s memories?”

“Epigenetics,” Sun answered after a moment. “It is possible to inherit learned behaviors, including memory. Experiments have been done on mice and goldfish to prove it.”

Bub’s tongue, scaled like a snake, slithered out and licked its open eyes.

“Why are you here?” Andy asked.

“Finis enim prope est,” the demon answered.

Andy couldn’t help but wince a little. He translated for the others. “Latin. The end is near. How many of you are there?”

“Weeee are many. Weeeeee are leeegion.”

“We are getting seriously creeped out,” Jerry said, taking a step back.

“What are you feeding it?” Sun asked Dr. Chandelling.

“Raw meat.”

“Has it tried to reanimate the meat?”

“No. So far we’ve only given it frozen hamburger.”

“Smart,” Sun said.

“Why is that smart?” Jerry asked.

“Freezing bursts the cell walls in meat. That would be difficult to bring back to life. Plus, the grinding would make it even harder for Bub to restructure the tissue.”

“If I saw a hamburger jumping around, I’d freak out,” Jerry said. “In fact, I think I’m already freaking out.”

“Tell us your plan, Bub,” Andy said to the demon.

“Humanityyyyyyy is over. Bellum internecinum.”

“What does that mean?” Sun asked. “Bellum…”

“Bellum internecium. War of extermination.”

“How?” Sun asked.

The demon hovered, saying nothing.

“Maybe he needs a little radiation therapy,” Andy said. “And a plutonium enema.”

“Your deaths will beeeeeeee painful, Dennisonsssssssss. We will eeeeeeeat you allliiiive.”

Dr. Chandelling looked up from his notes. “The faustling hadn’t spoken until you arrived. But if it retains the memories and intellect of the demon from Samhain, it’s incredibly intelligent.”

“It’s smarter than we are,” Andy said.

“And uglier,” Jerry said.

The batling bashed itself into the glass. Everyone jumped back.

“Bite your tongue, boy. Or weeeeee shall bite it for yoooooooou.”

“Go wank yourself,” Jerry said, the false bravado obvious, but admirable. “You’re in there, I’m out here, so bite me.”

Bub smashed into the glass again, so hard its pig snout burst open in a bloody mess.

Jerry screamed falsetto.

Bub grinned, rows of jagged teeth stretching wide, and began to lick its blood off the window.

“I say we irradiate it until it talks, then kill it,” Andy said.

“Seconded,” said Sun.

“Yooooooou can’t kill meeeeeeee, Dennisons.”

“Denison-Jones.”

“It bleeds,” Jerry said. “If it bleeds, we can kill it.” Everyone looked at him. “You guys didn’t see Predator, I take it?” No one answered. Jerry grimaced. “Christ, doesn’t anyone watch movies anymore? We’re right in the middle of Cabin in the Woods right now and I keep expecting to see Joss Whedon pissing about behind a camera.”

The batling descended slightly, hovered at head height beside Dr. Chandelling. “Helloooooo doctoooooor. Caaaaan you heeeeeear ussssssss?”

Chandelling dropped his notepad on the floor. His pockmarked jaw dropped open. “W-what did you say?”

“Hoooooooow issssssss your heeeeeeearing? Think it will laaaaaaaaast?”

“Doctor, are you okay?” Sun asked.

“Yes, I’m… I’m fine. If you’ll excuse me I have to go and compile this data.” Dr. Chandelling picked his notepad off the floor and hurried away.

Bub began to make a croaking sound, like a sick bullfrog.

“Is it choking on something?” Jerry said.

Andy shook his head. “It’s laughing.”

“I hate this thing. How big was the other one?”

“About ten feet tall.”

“Jesus. It’s a wonder you got out of there alive.”

Bub banged into the glass again, hard enough to make everyone jump.

“Yooooou won’t thissssssss time,” the demon said.

Chapter Thirteen

Dr. Chandelling holed up in his office and closed the door. The first thing he did was open up his prized StereoMatic 564 record player and put on the soothing tones of Bing Crosby. Chandelling had been born in the 70s but had grown up to the backdrop of his father’s records. The music of his own generation had lacked the sophistication and class of the decades before. Russ Columbo. Peggy Lee. Frank Sinatra. Ethel Merman. Perry Como. Matt Monro. Ella Fitzgerald. Rudy Vallee.

Music that eased the mind and healed the soul. Ear Valium, he called it.

And Chandelling knew how lucky he was to be able to enjoy it.

As a youth, he was plagued with ear problems. Chandelling had had constant ear infections—otitis media with effusion—aka glue ear. During his first seven years of life, he barely heard half of it. A combination of never-ending antibiotics, and two tympanostomy tubes, finally restored his hearing, but he’d missed so much school he was behind in his studies until he caught up at age twelve. Other children continued to make fun of him through high school—glue ear would discharge fluid, which was smelly and gross and not the fast track to popularity.

Chandelling had taken solace in his old-fashioned music, and finally came into his own in college He’d grown enough that his Eustachian tubes no longer clogged constantly, which not only brought his hearing back to within normal ranges, but alleviated the social stigma. Though Chandelling continued to be shy and wary of people, he’d done well at the university, eventually earning his doctorate. The days of pain and humiliation were long gone.

So how did that creature know about his biggest fear?

Chandelling sat down at his desk and flopped into the soft Italian leather of his office chair, watching his goldfish, Satchmo, swim around in his aquarium. As the music played, Chandelling thought about the batling. Bub. Very few of the other occupants of the Spiral talked. That suited Chandelling just fine. He didn’t like to talk, either. He maintained professional, if aloof, relationships with his co-workers, and hadn’t discussed his personal life with any of them, with the exception of Dr. Gornman’s required weekly therapy sessions. And those were supposed to be confidential, like speaking to a lawyer or a priest.

Perhaps Bub could read minds. Or was somehow supernatural.

The track changed to Don’t Fence Me In, but it failed to sooth Chandelling like it usually did because of the last thing Bub had said to him.

“Hoooooooow issssssss your heeeeeeearing? Think it will laaaaaaaaast?”

Chandelling touched his ear, and couldn’t help but believe he’d just been threatened. And the threat was not only serious, it was legitimate.

Chapter Fourteen

While Andy and Sun verbally jousted with the hellspawn, Jerry decided to walk up and down the corridor and check out the various other creatures imprisoned behind the glass walls. It was scary, for sure, but it seemed to be the ‘okay’ kind of scary, like a horror film or a rollercoaster. They were locked up. He was safe.

Supposedly.

He passed by a misshapen bear-like creature with long arms and ropey white body hair. It looked like what Jerry imagined a yeti to be like, but the text on the LED screen read: Grendaline Historicum. Long yellow claws. Long yellow teeth. Tiny curled horns, like a ram. It watched Jerry, its bright blue eyes following him as he passed

Another cell gave off a stench worse than rotting meat. Homo Romero. It was humanoid, green with decay, and lumbering around like the living dead. Which, Jerry guessed, was exactly what it was.

“So are you a slow zombie, like in all the 80s Lucio Fulci movies, or a quick one like 28 Days Later and the Dawn of the Dead remake?”

No reply.

“Do you eat whole people or just brains?”

No reply.

“Can you even hear me?”

The zombie leapt at the glass, much faster than Jerry would have guessed, and grunted out, “Braaaaains!”

“Okay, questions answered. Cheers. You can go back to your lumbering now.”

The next one actually made Jerry laugh. It was nothing more than a banana, lying in the middle of the cell. According to the LED, it was called Mu.

“What do you do?”

The banana didn’t reply.

“Why are you on subbasement 5? How are you dangerous? In case someone walks on you and slips?”

“Nobody likes you,” the banana said. “You’re a loser and you’re ugly and stupid. It’s no wonder you’re a virgin.”

“Hey! That’s mean!”

“Ugly. Small cock, too.”

“Stop it.”

“Ugly virgin with a baby dick. And such a disappointment to your family. Whoops, no family.”

Jerry’s eyebrows furrowed and his hands involuntarily clenched into fists. “Enough!”

“Nobody likes you, and if you ever want to have sex you’ll need to pay for it. Double the asking price.”

“You fucking dick!”

“Sticks and stones, ugly,” the banana answered. “You can try some beauty sleep, but it won’t help.”

Jerry quickly moved on, feeling pretty bad about himself. No wonder Mu was on the bottom level. That banana could really say some terrible things.

The most frightening creature on subbasement 5 was the thing in cell 6 named Nosferatus Hominic. The monster looked mostly like a man, but its jaws were more like a shark’s with rows upon rows of lethal dagger-like teeth, so many they tore through its lips and cheeks. When it saw Jerry it threw itself at the glass, clawing and snapping, its black eyes crazed with bloodlust. Jerry was glad for the six-inch barrier separating them.

In the next cell was Wolfie, or Lycanus Canini as the LED display noted. When the hairy, dog-like creature saw Jerry, it too came closer to the glass, but it wasn’t in a threatening manner like the occupant of cell 6. Its breath fogged the window.

“Hey, there.” Jerry placed a hand against it, as if petting the beast’s snout. “Do you want to eat me? Or are you just bored?”

Wolfie sat down, its ears pricking up like a border collie’s.

“Yeah, I think you’re just bored. How long they have you caged-up down here? Years, I bet.”

The creature let out a soft whine. It was somewhere between a begging sound and one of barely-contained excitement.

“I used to have an old dog named Betsie.” Part of Jerry knew it was silly talking to a giant wolf, but he didn’t care. “My mom was always working and I was at school, so Betsie would get left alone a lot. Whenever I walked through the door she would go completely barmy. She would run around the flat back and forth between the rooms, whining and yelping. When she finally calmed down she would sit on my lap with her legs in the air and I would tickle her belly. I can’t imagine how miserable she would have been if we’d locked her up and just never came home.”

Wolfie sat down, wagging his tail.

“I don’t think it’s right that they have you down here. You don’t look dangerous to me. You may have bitten that General dude, but he’s an asshole.”

To Jerry’s surprise, Wolfie let out a bark. It was the friendly, yippy bark that Betsie had used to make when he would come home from school.

Jerry grinned. “Dude, I would so adopt you if I could. Ben would shit his pants if he saw me walking you around the block. Oh yeah, right. You don’t know about Ben.”

Wolfie began to wag its enormous tail.

“Ben’s been my best friend since, like, forever. We grew up together, were in the same class in first school. I think I used to get on his nerves sometimes. He was smart, had his shit together, you know? I’ve always been a bit of a disaster zone. He always stuck by me, though, through thick and thin. Thing is, he wasn’t just my best friend, he was my half-brother. Only he didn’t know about it. My mom had an affair with his dad when they were both really young. Mom got pregnant but he didn’t want anything to do with it—the prick. He was getting married to another woman who was pregnant with Ben at the time. So I grew up without a dad. Through some crazy coincidence, I ended up making friends with Ben on our first day of school. Of course, I didn’t know then that we were brothers. It wasn’t until I was older that my mother came clean—although it took a bottle of vodka to make her tell me. I was shocked at the time; upset, you know? But in the end I decided to keep it to myself. Ben and I were so close anyway. What difference would telling him have made?”

Wolfie whined again. Ben stroked the glass.

“Ben’s dad used to treat me like shit whenever he caught me hanging around with Ben. Used to warn him that I would bring him down. Who he was really slagging off, though, was my mom. He had money, a business, a nice little family. My mom had me and a crummy council flat. Ben’s dad—huh, my dad—looked down on me and my mom like shit on his shoe from the moment I was born.” Jerry took a moment to catch his breath. He was breathing hard and felt anger in his veins. “When my mom died he didn’t even come to the fucking funeral. I was so mad.” Jerry took a breath and let it out in a bitter chuckle. “I showed him, though.”

Someone stepped out of the elevator at the end of the corridor and startled Jerry. It was a young bird with auburn hair and pale skin. Her red lips pursed when she smiled at him.

“Oh, hi. Sorry,” he said. “I know I’m not supposed to be walking around here on my own, but the Dennison-Joneses are just down the hall.”

“It’s okay. Don’t see what harm you could do anyway. General Kane is just being overly cautious. Being a hardass is kind of his job.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. Doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

The girl giggled. “I’m Nessie. Pleased to meet you. You must be Jerry.”

Jerry took her hand. It was soft and small, like holding a rosebud. “Pleased to meet you too. Take it you’ve been warned about me?”

“Nope. Dr. Chandelling just told me that we had a young Englishman on site. Love your accent by the way. Reminds me of my daddy a little. He was from Belfast. Not the same, I know, but it’s still a nice change from all the American accents I’m used to hearing.”

Jerry smiled. He wanted to say something funny, or at least interesting, but nothing came out.

“So, what are you up to?” Nessie asked him.

Jerry shrugged his shoulders. He wondered if she’d heard him talking to the creature in the cell. If she had, he was embarrassed about it. No point hiding it, though. Last thing to do in a secret underground government facility was act suspiciously. “I was just chatting with Wolfie here.”

Nessie raised an eyebrow and gave him a lopsided grin that was extremely cute. “Wolfie?”

“Yeah, better than calling him Lycanus Canini.”

“I suppose you’re right. Don’t know who came up with all the names, but they do lack personality. Wolfie here can be quite playful. I smuggled a few chew toys in and he seems to like them. Don’t tell the General, though. They don’t get along.”

Jerry smiled. He was glad there was at least one person looking out for Wolfie. “So, erm, is there anything I can help you with? I’d like to make myself useful around here.”

Nessie chewed the side of her mouth and seemed to think. “You can help me do some research in the library, but I’m only going to be in there for an hour or so. Fatal Autonomy is on later and I never miss it.”

Jerry laughed. He was surprised that someone so bookish could be a diehard fan of a flaky TV cop drama. “You actually like that show?”

Ness nodded enthusiastically. “I love it.” She put her hands up in front of her. “I know I know, it’s kind of lame, but I just find it fascinating. I hear they base the killers on real life psychopaths.”

“I think that fat lady cop is annoying, but the private eye hero is pretty cool, I guess.”

“I know. He’s so… dark. I wonder if he’s like that in real life.”

“Do you do that, too?” Jerry asked. “Whenever I see a show I like, I wonder how they’d act in person. I mean, I know Bruce Willis doesn’t kill terrorists for real, but I wonder if he really is tough and funny.”

“I love Bruce Willis. I’ve seen the Die Hard movies a billion times.”

“Or Sigourney Weaver.”

“Aliens!” Nessie squealed. “That scene where she has Newt and they walk into the queen alien’s nest, surrounded by hatching eggs. I could never be that brave.”

“But here you are, surrounded by monsters. That’s pretty brave.”

Nessie blushed. “It’s not the same.”

“It’s not the same because that was a movie, and you’re really here. Seriously, how would your friends freak out if they knew you were giving chew toys to a giant wolf?”

Nessie’s smile fell away, and she looked at her clipboard. “I, uh, am going to go watch my show now.”

“Maybe I’ll give the show another chance,” said Jerry, feeling his mouth go dry but not knowing why. He also needed to go to the toilet real bad all of a sudden.

Nessie didn’t say anything.

Tell her you want to come with.

Come on, chicken. Tell her!

“Mind if I, um, tag along, watch it with you?”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. There’s a TV in the library. It’s at the end of this floor. It’s pretty cool, if you’re into that kind of thing. Lots and lots of old, rare books.”

“Sounds neat.”

Neat? Lame! What am I, eight years old?

Nessie smiled. “Yeah, it’s actually super neat. Come on. I’ll lead the way.”

Chapter Fifteen

“What about co-existing peacefully?” Andy asked the demon.

For more than twenty minutes, he and Sun had been trying to get through Bub’s surface malevolence, only to realize how deep the evil actually was.

“Nooooooo peeeeeace.”

“You have the ability to heal, to resurrect. You could save millions.”

“Humans are vermin. Doooooo you invite roaches to dine at yooooour taaaaable? Or doooo yoooooooooooou squaaaaaash them?”

Perturbed, Andy said, “Our species could learn from each other.”

“Your speeeeeeecies will be myyyyyyyy slaves.”

“So you say. But I can’t help but notice that you’re the one locked up.”

“Foooooooor noooooooowwwww.”

“You’re really hung up on this evil trip, aren’t you, Bub?” Sun asked.

“Eeeevil issssss subjective. There are twoooo opposing forcesssssss. Order and disorder. Both require enerrrrrgy.”

“So you’re disorder?”

“I am become death, the destroyer of wooorrrrrrrlds.”

Andy recognized the odd-sounding quote. It was last said famously by Robert Oppenheimer, after creating the atomic bomb, quoting the Bhagavad Gita.

“But you can also create,” Sun said, “and give life. They say a cheetah can’t change its spots, but you literally can. Why the fatalism?”

Bub’s body began to twist and contort, and he abruptly turned himself inside out in a spectacle of splitting skin and cracking bone and churning organs, blood and tissue exploding out in all directions. Then his body began to reassemble itself into something human.

Something human, and recognizable.

Bub had transformed himself into their friend, Dr. Frank Belgium.

“Frank?” Sun asked.

Frank blinked. He was nude, a thin sheen of blood covering him. “Andy?” he said. “Sun? Is is is that really you?”

“It’s not Frank,” Andy said, backing away. “It’s a trick. Bub can change into things, remember?”

Frank put a bloody palm on the glass. “Sun, you know it’s me? Right? We we we worked together a long time.”

It looked and sounded exactly like Frank. It even copied his strange speech patterns. Andy’s heart rate doubled, and he felt as if he’d been slapped.

“Why am I I I locked up?” Frank said. “And and and naked?”

Frank began to move his hands over his body, rubbing in the blood like moisturizing cream.

“You look so so so pretty, Sun.”

Andy stepped away from the glass as the Frank thing began to stroke itself. Sun cleaved onto Andy’s side.

“Let’s get away from it,” Sun whispered.

“NO!” Frank bellowed. He stretched out his arm, and then it bent backwards at the elbow with a sharp CRACK!

Both Sun and Andy gasped, and as Frank screamed in pain he held up his hand, fingers splayed out, and each digit bent back, as if an invisible hand was breaking them one by one.

Then his leg snapped at the femur, a ninety degree angle that made the bone burst through the skin.

Frank continued to masturbate as his left foot began to twist, crackling like a bag of chips, rotating a full three hundred and sixty degrees until the skin split. His screaming became interspersed with bits of hysterical laughter.

Then his eyes popped out and hung on his cheeks by the stringy optic nerves.

That was their cue to leave.

“You won’t esssssscape me, Dennisonssssssss,” the demon was back to using its normal voice. “You won’t essssccccccaaaaaaape.”

“That wasn’t Frank,” Andy told his bride as they hurried down the hall.

“I know.”

“It’s just Bub messing with our heads.”

“I know.”

“I still feel sick.”

“Me, too.”

Then they both bent over and puked breakfast onto the floor.

“What? Is married life that bad? There’s still time for a quickie annulment.”

Andy looked in the direction of the voice, and saw a cell occupied by a banana.

“Let’s get out of here,” Andy said.

“Don’t leave,” the banana replied. “We’ll have a bunch of fun. Get it? Bunch? That is, until everyone here dies. Want to hear my maniacal laugh? Bwahahahahaha! EVERYONE IS GOING TO DIE!!!!”

They took the elevator to level four, and ended up in the conference room.

Sergeant Rimmer was sitting at a long table, watching his computer monitor while texting on his pager. Andy glanced at the screen and saw it showed live security camera feeds from several cells in the Spiral, including Bub’s.

“I saw what that demon just did,” Rimmer said. “You two okay?”

“Yeah,” Andy said, still feeling sick.

“Did you learn anything new?”

“A banana insulted our marriage,” Sun said. “Then told us we’re all going to die.”

“Oh. Mu.” Rimmer shook his head. “He’s some sort of multidimensional being. Supposedly can be everywhere at once, throughout all of spacetime and the multiverse. At least, that’s what he says. He came in with a shipment of fresh produce and started insulting everybody. Teased Nessie to tears. We put him on subbasement 5 because no one likes him. I guess you could say he’s fruit gone bad.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“I don’t think he’s harmed anyone, physically. But some of his jabs are pretty pointed. He’d be really good doing one of those celebrity roasts.”

Andy changed the subject. “Other than General Kane being bitten by the wolf, have there been any other problems at the facility?”

“No. Hasn’t been a serious security breach on my watch for almost five years.”

“How long have you been here?” Andy asked.

“Almost five years.”

“So what did you do before that?”

“I was a Sergeant in the Army Rangers. On the ground during the invasion of Iraq.”

“How did you end up here?”

“Stumbled upon something I shouldn’t have.”

Andy leaned forwards. “Really? Care to share?” He was less interested in the story and more interesting in getting the image of Frank Belgium out of his head.

Rimmer put down his pen and looked up at them. “I suppose I can tell you. Not that I particularly enjoy telling it.”

Sun and Andy said nothing.

So Rimmer continued. “My unit was in the south-western Iraqi desert near Rutba. We were looking for a chemical weapons processing plant that Intel told us was in the area. We had managed to flip a guy in the Republican Guard. He’d explained that Saddam had several WMDs ready to launch the very moment he was declared dead or captured—kind of like a dead man’s switch. One of the Army’s primary objectives was ensuring that this was not true, or neutralising the devices in the case that it was. The plant south of Rutba was our first and only lead. We didn’t want Saddam to know that we were on to his plan, so command sent in three Ranger units. My unit was in the area directly south of Rutba. So far we’d found nothing but desert, but we had an itinerary and we weren’t going to bug-out until we hit every point on our map. But when a sandstorm came in, it ruined our radio equipment and left us all turned around on ourselves. I could have gone north towards the road and called the mission in as a bust, but I made the decision to keep heading south instead. We were in the middle of the desert, a perfect place to hide a facility. Turns out I was right.”

“You found the chemical plant?” Sun asked.

“I thought so at the time. My unit came upon a group of single-story buildings surrounded by a half dozen 3-tonners—big trucks. There was no natural cover so we dropped down low and approached from two sides. We were sure we were about to strike a mighty blow for America.” Rimmer blinked slowly as the story seemed to play out in his mind. “They opened fire on us before we even got halfway. I didn’t realise at the time, but the area was covered by thermal imaging and radar. They saw us coming a mile away. By the time I even knew what was happening, my entire unit had been slaughtered and I’d taken a bullet in the neck. I thought I was done for, even started to pray. Bleeding out into the sand, I thought about all the wives and families of the men I’d just led to their deaths. I was angry, ashamed, and a whole bunch of other screwed-up emotions beginning with A. Even though I was dying, I wanted to get up and scream, to fight for my men. But every time I tried, my body would not move. Last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was two men running towards me. Neither of them were Iraqi soldiers.”

“So what happened?” Andy asked. “Who were they?”

“Deus Manus. I’d stumbled upon the Iraqi chapter of the Order. They called their facility Jahannam.”

Andy translated the word in his head. “Jahannam? The Islamic concept of Hell?”

Rimmer nodded. “They brought me underground and locked me in a cell, vetted me for almost six months. Ran psych tests on me, background checks, the works. Checked up on every person I knew. After enough time had passed, the US government listed me as KIA—as well as all of the men in my unit, whose bodies they had relocated a hundred-miles north of where they actually died. That’s when Deus Manus inducted me. I trained for a few years at the Iraqi facility and eventually transferred here, back home. This was my first major gig and I’ve been here ever since.”

“You ever regret being here?”

Rimmer sniffed. “I regret how I got here, on the backs of my dead squad mates, but I don’t regret being here now. It’s important work. The things we keep down here are dangerous. After what happened in Samhain you both obviously understand that.”

Andy and Sun said nothing. Rimmer’s pager on his belt beeped, and he checked it.

“A pager?” Andy said, trying to alleviate some of the tension. “With all of this tech, isn’t that old school?”

“Radio waves don’t travel far in the Spiral. We’re not sure why. Being underground is part of it, and there’s a lot of interference from all the equipment, but the prevailing idea is that some of these creatures produce radio waves themselves, and block our transmissions. Standard AM and FM bands don’t work. Cell phones don’t work. The pagers work via an ad-hoc WLAN. We can text each other, small amounts of data at a time, and even then the texts can get delayed.”

“Sounds… inconvenient.”

“Do you really mean inconvenient? Or dangerous?”

“Dangerous,” Andy admitted.

“Each floor has an intercom phone, so I can stay in touch with my men that way in case of an emergency. So far that’s been all we’ve needed.”

So far, Andy thought.

General Kane appeared from one of the side offices. He quickly took a seat at the table with them. “Any issues, Sergeant?”

“None at all, sir. All systems optimal. Outside perimeters clear. We’re all alone out here as usual, sir.”

“Very good.”

Rimmer took his bundle of papers and left.

“Now then.” Kane turned to face the Dennison-Joneses. “Did you find anything out about our guests?”

“No specifics.” Sun crossed her arms. “But it’s obvious that the batling is part of some kind of larger plan. If we’re to believe the things it was saying to us, mankind should be preparing for some kind of war.”

Kane huffed. “Against a handful of flying goat men? I’ve faced off against far worse.”

“How many batlings are being held in Deus Manus facilities, General?” Sun asked. “Assuming you talked to the President.”

“I did, and he gave you clearance. By last count, we have eighteen batlings. The one here is the largest.”

“And were they all caught in close proximity to the facilities?”

“Yes.”

“So they were trying to get caught.”

“That is certainly one interpretation. But they’re all locked up. This isn’t Samhain. Samhain’s main purpose was research. Here our main goal is containment. Nothing has ever escaped a Deus Manus facility.”

“You know Bub can alter his own DNA and shapeshift?”

“I read the Samhain file, Ms. Dennison-Jones. What happened to you both at Samhain has frightened you. General Race’s incompetence has rattled your faith in the ability of the human race to defend itself. We are top of the food chain for a reason, and nothing will knock us off that pedestal.”

Andy rolled his chin against his chest and sighed as his neck cracked. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his arguments rational rather than idealist like Kane’s.

“First off,” Andy said. “There was nothing incompetent about General Race. Second, Bub, and that batling in particular, are like nothing else in this facility. He might just hold the secret to life itself. We had a theory that…” Andy sighed. He didn’t want to waste his breath getting into theories which held no proof. He suddenly wished he hadn’t spoken.

Kane folded his arms. “A theory that what?”

“That Bub created life on this earth.”

Kane stared at them. He didn’t blink, he didn’t react. After several uncomfortable seconds had passed, he simply got up and walked away, shaking his head the whole time.

Sun and Andy looked at each other.

“Guess he must be a creationist,” said Sun.

“I get the impression that having faith in God is a pre-requisite to be inducted into Deus Manus. Even Rimmer mentioned something about praying.”

“What about Dr. Chandelling, Dr. Gornman? Surely as people of science, what they have seen here must have made them question the existence of God.”

Andy shrugged. “Maybe. Or perhaps it made them believe in Him even more.”

Sun huffed and reached across the table to hold Andy’s hand. “So what’s the plan, hubby?”

“I don’t know. But I have an idea.”

Sun raised an eyebrow. “Torture Bub with radiation until he talks?”

“Even if we got permission, I don’t think I could stomach that. And we both know the only reliable information extracted via torture exists in the realms of TV show like 24; and I’m no Jack Bauer. But Bub isn’t the only one here who knows something.”

“The Manx man.”

“I say it’s time that Lucas and Bub Jr. meet face to face.”

Chapter Fifteen

Fatal Autonomy had been a rerun, the one where they chased a serial killer known as the Gingerbread Man and the annoying fat female cop kept bursting into tears. Instead of watching it, Jerry and Nessie hit the library for research.

“So what are we looking for?” Jerry asked.

“Anything to do with the batling. Especially anything to do with the origin of its creator.”

“Bub?”

“Yes, although that’s just the name they gave him at the Samhain project. No one knows his real name.”

The library on subbasement 5 was huge, not as big as a public library but vastly larger than a private library had any right to be. The ceilings were high, stacked with books of all sizes. Jerry picked up a dusty tome the size of a monopoly board and wiped his hand across the surface revealing the title: Infernas Animas.

“So this ‘Bub’? He was like, what, a demon or something?”

Nessie leafed through the pages of the book she’d set down in front of her. “To tell you the truth, no one knows exactly what he is. They dug him up in Panama over a hundred years ago and he slept pretty much the whole time they had him at Samhain. Then, five, six years ago or so, he wakes up and wreaks havoc. The Dennison-Joneses and one other member of the Samhain team were the only survivors. Up until Bub awoke, the scientists at the facility thought he was the devil himself—Satan.”

Jerry’s eyes went wide. “No shit? You mean the devil and angels exist for real? Man, I would love to see an angel. Bet they’re all badass with flaming swords and stuff.”

“I don’t think he actually is Satan, Jerry. The reports made it seem more like Bub is some kind of evolutionary origin for all things on earth. I don’t know if I believe it myself, but they suggest Bub shared DNA on a basic level with all other species on earth. So either all life in the entire universe is carbon based, uses the same five nucleobases, and requires liquid water to survive, or Bub is terrestrial.”

“Meaning Bub came from earth?”

“Or life on earth came from Bub. Some samples taken from Bub predate life on earth.”

Jerry opened the book in front of him and turned to a random page. On it was an image of a woman being burned in front of a crowd of people. The text was all in a foreign language, but Jerry could figure out that it was a witch. “But Bub is gone now, he turned into lots of the smaller batlings, right?”

“As far as I know. That batling is pretty much a miniature replica of Bub himself. It would be interesting to know if Bub could reform again if all of the batlings came back together.”

Jerry laughed. “Like some sort of Lego demon or one of those robots in the Power Rangers?”

Nessie giggled. “You’re such a nerd.”

Jerry frowned and looked down at his book, turning the pages one after the other without reading any of them. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“No,” said Nessie. “I like it. I think you’re funny.”

Jerry looked up at her. “What, funny in a good way?”

“Is there any other kind?”

“There’s funny in an odd way.”

“But odd is good, isn’t it? Who wants to be normal?”

“I guess.”

Nessie motioned for him to take the seat beside her. Jerry did so, his hands starting to sweat as he pulled back the chair.

“This book is all about the Nordic bronze-age. It has a chapter that indexes all the different cave paintings and rock carvings from that time.”

“What time?”

“1700BC to about 500BC. That’s really old, but not as old as you’d think. The earliest forms of civilizations may have started as early as 12,000BC.”

Jerry whistled. “Crikey! So why are you not starting back there, at the beginning?”

“Well, with so much time to cover, I feel it’s best to start with this period and work backwards and forwards based on what I find. If I find mention of Bub, then I’ll go backwards a few centuries and search for something else. If I find nothing then I’ll try something a little more recent. I’m trying to pinpoint Bub’s place in time.”

Jerry nodded. It seemed like finding a needle in a haystack to him, but if it took an age to come up with something useful, then he would be quite happy to sit next to Nessie the whole time. Her reddish hair seemed to sparkle beneath the soft lights of the library and her rosy cheeks radiated warmth. She had a way of making Jerry feel comfortable; probably the first woman that had ever managed to do that, since he wasn’t exactly the smoothest around members of the opposite sex.

“So, what makes you think there’s anything about Bub in the history books? Wouldn’t we all know about him if there was?”

Nessie smiled. “One of the first things you learn when inducted into Deus Manus is that there are certain history books written only to be read by a few people. Most of the books in this library were written by hand and reproduced perhaps only a dozen times. Deus Manus probably owns all of the reproductions as well as the originals. What we have in this library is the complete and concise history of the world. What everyone else has is just the Cliff Notes.”

Jerry looked around at all the dusty tomes that lined the many shelves. “I think you just blew my mind.”

Nessie chuckled. “Well, it’s been a long time since I blew a man’s anything.” As soon as the words left Nessie’s mouth there was a look of horror in her eyes. She placed a hand over her lips and shook her head. “I can’t believe I just said that. My god, I’ve been in this hole too long.”

Jerry felt himself turn red. “Hey, erm, don’t worry about it. It was just a joke; a pretty funny one actually.”

Nessie moved her hand away from her mouth and sighed. “Wow, I’m sorry. Still can’t believe I just said that. Anyway, look at this.”

Jerry stared at the pages in front of Nessie. On the page was a photograph of a cliff wall. Splashed on it in faded red paint was the image of a winged man with horns and the lower body of a goat. It looked just like the batling, only bigger. All around the winged figure were people on their knees, bowing before it.

“What is this?” Jerry asked.

“This,” said Nessie, “is proof that people once worshipped Bub as a god.”

“What people?”

“The Nordic tribes. We don’t know a lot about them, as written sources are lacking, but we do know that they worshipped two gods—one good and one bad. It could be said that these two gods were actually a duality of one being—a good and bad side of one god. But it could also be that they worshipped the same god we do, a caring god in the heavens, and a second god, an evil god down here on earth.”

“Bub?”

Nessie looked at Jerry and nodded. “Could be. If they really did worship Bub, then we know that he is at least three-thousand years old. Let’s go back further.”

Jerry stood up and went over to one of the bookcases. “What can I get you? Remember that I am here to serve.”

“Ooh, I always wanted my own assistant. Can you get me that big blue book just over there?” She pointed. “It should say Hadzabe on the spine. It’s a book on a Stone Age tribe from Tanzania. I want to see if I can find Bub in a different time and location.”

Jerry located the book and brought it over. “You want to find out if Bub got about a bit?”

Nessie laughed. “Yes. It would be good to see just how far his influence stretched, just how many civilizations were touched by him.”

Jerry sat back down at the table and opened the book. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s Google this bitch, old school.”

Jerry saw out the corner of his eye that Nessie was smiling at him, and that made him smile too.

Chapter Sixteen

“So how are we going to do this?”

Andy looked at his wife and wished he had a clear-cut answer to give to her. They were still sitting at the conference table and had been discussing the plan of getting Lucas and the batling together for the past hour. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I think the best man to ask would be Rimmer.”

Sun nodded. “Let’s get him in here, then.”

Andy leant forward and examined the intercom in the center of the table. There was a small LCD display and some buttons. After a couple of seconds, Andy worked out how to use the device and put a call through to the security office.

“Rimmer. Who’s this?”

“Andy and Sun. We’re still in the conference room. Would you be able to come meet with us?”

A sigh came from the speakers, but Rimmer said, “I’ll be there in five.”

Andy leant back in his chair and folded his hands on his lap. He spent a couple minute’s thought on the logistics of what he wanted to achieve.

“Maybe if we can divide one of the cells in two, it would work.”

“How will we move one of them to the other’s cell? We know the batling is dangerous, but Lucas could be too.”

“There has to be some way of moving the occupants. I mean, how do they get them in here in the first place? You heard it yourself that they move specimens between facilities from time to time.”

“We blitz the cell with sleeping gas,” Rimmer said, entering the room. “Then we head in as quickly as we can and secure the prisoner inside a titanium cargo crate. In this case we may be able to use simple handcuffs and drag the inmate down the corridor.”

Andy frowned at Rimmer. “You heard what we were talking about?”

Rimmer pointed to the intercom. “I was listening on the intercom. I can access it remotely.”

“You should be working for the NSA,” Andy said. “You’re wasted here.”

Rimmer deadpanned. “The NSA can’t afford me.”

“So,” Sun said. “You think it can be done? Moving Lucas and the batling together?”

Rimmer pulled at his raggedy beard. “Seems like a stupid idea to me, but you’re the eggheads. I’m obliged to facilitate whatever you think is best—within reason.”

“Is there a way to divide one of the cells?” Andy asked.

“Maybe. They aren’t very big on this level, but we may be able to rig something up. Give me a few hours and I’ll work something out. One thing I’ve learned, being down here, is that these creatures will take any chance they can to escape. You better clear things with Dr. Gornman. She’ll make a fuss if you don’t.”

Andy rolled his eyes. “Great. I’ve been looking forward to working with her. She seems like such a charmer.”

Rimmer deadpanned again, but the corners of his mouth twitched as if fighting a smile. “Dr. Gornman is a brilliant scientist. I imagine having her level of intellect can be a burden at times.”

Andy nodded. He was aware that being a genius could be at the detriment to other mental functions—most notably, social skills. He himself had struggled to maintain relationships in his formative years due to his intelligence, and had seen first-hand, with the likes of his former colleague, Dr. Belgium, that the smartest people were usually the most awkward.

“I’ll meet up with you folks later,” Rimmer said, and then left the room.

Andy looked at Sun and gave her a forlorn smile. “Shall we go deal with Gornman now or later?”

“Let’s get it over with.”

They headed away from the conference table towards the back of the room, over to the door that read: LABS 1-4. Andy pushed open the door and held it for his wife. Sun stepped through and looked around.

“Sure puts Samhain to shame,” she said.

Andy stepped inside and took it all in. They were standing in a clinical white corridor that had several glass cubicles on either side: small examination rooms and offices mostly. Up ahead was a vast laboratory. All four of its walls were glass and the equipment inside was cutting-edge. Andy could not even imagine what most of it was for. Standing inside the lab, wearing her lab coat was Dr. Gornman. When she saw them approaching, the aggravation was clear on her face.

But then she smiled and waved at them.

Andy and Sun exchanged confused glances. “Perhaps she’s accepted us being here,” Sun suggested.

Gornman gave them a hand signal that suggested she would be ‘two minutes’ and then started to pull off her latex gloves, depositing them in a waste-disposal tub. Thirty seconds later she was opening the door to the lab and stepping out.

“Mr. and Ms, Dennison-Jones. Welcome to the labs. This is our level-1 lab. You can perform the more benign experiments here such as cultures and DNA sequencing. The other labs are more secure. That’s where we do our more sensitive experiments.”

“I’d be lost in any of them,” Andy said. “I’m not science-savvy.”

Gornman smiled. “I could say the same about myself and foreign languages, Mr. Dennison-Jones.”

“So what are you doing?” Sun asked.

Gornman frowned. “As you no doubt found with Bub, the batling seems to share DNA with just about every other species on earth. I performed an x-ray on a tissue sample we got from the batling and observed degradation under even the mildest doses of radiation, so that seems to be a weakness. In other words, I haven’t yet discovered anything that you didn’t already know when you got here.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find something,” Sun said. “Let us know if we can help.”

Dr. Gornman looked down at her shoes like a scolded child. “I’m afraid I was a little brusque before. You must understand that, working down here, so far from civilization, one tends to become stuck in their ways.”

“It’s okay,” Sun said. “I was once in the same environment. I understand cabin fever all too well.”

“Well, I apologize sincerely. Anything you need, just let me know.”

“Now that you mention it,” Andy said. “We were hoping to get your help with something.”

“Yes?”

“We want to move Lucas and the batling into the same cell.”

Gornman’s eyes went unnaturally wide. “You want to place two different creatures in the same space? Are you insane?”

Andy sighed. Didn’t take long for the brusque to return.

“We think it’s the best way to find out if Lucas is here because of the batling or vice-versa. We need to know if they are here for related reasons.”

Gornman rubbed at her forehead and let out a long breath. When she looked at them again, she was calmer, but it seemed forced. “Okay, okay. I hope you can excuse my surprise. It’s just that we’ve never attempted such a thing down here before—least of all with the guests of subbasement 5. But if that’s what you want to do, then it is my duty to accommodate you. Now, when were you hoping to achieve this feat of insane peril?”

“We were hoping to get it done this afternoon,” said Andy. “Sooner the better.”

“Of course, why wait and plan when you can rush right in. Let us get started then.”

“So you approve?” Andy asked, somewhat suspiciously.

Gornman stared at him and raised both her eyebrows. “Of course. I’m happy to help, Mr. Dennison-Jones.”

Dr. Gornman walked between Sun and Andy and left the labs. Sun was frowning at Andy and he asked her what was wrong.

“You know I’m not superstitious, right?”

“You’re the opposite of superstitious, hon. You’re a skeptic.”

“I know.” Sun hugged herself and shivered. “So why do I feel like someone just walked over my grave?”

Chapter Seventeen

“They want to do what?” Kane wasn’t sure that he had heard correctly.

Rimmer folded his arms across his wide chest and checked his watch. “It’s not necessarily a bad idea. Neither the Manx man or the batling are talking. But if we put them together, maybe we can figure out what’s going on.”

“Of all people, I wouldn’t expect you to agree with this. It’s an unnecessary risk to security.”

Rimmer chewed the side of his cheek, appeared to think about it, and then said, “Sometimes a risk is the only option left. In Iraq we would have been dead in the water without eavesdropping on prisoners for Intel. I remember shoving a couple of Iraqi soldiers in a cell together once and watching them go at it. They were long-time enemies, but both loyally served Saddam. As one spat accusations and insults at the other, the other one would spit them right back. By the end of the day we had gotten enough information to know the names of their entire families and half their friends. We also knew that one of the men was responsible for a botched attack on a US base. His enemy straight-out insulted him for his incompetence in failing in his mission.”

Kane ran his palms over the surface of his desk, enjoying the feel of the wood grain against his calloused hands. “You think this is what this is? Putting two enemies together to see what we can overhear?”

“Among other benefits,” Rimmer added.

“Such as?”

“They might tear each other apart. Two less monsters for us to deal with.”

Kane’s frown became a tight smirk. He appreciated Rimmer’s straight forward approach to things. “It’s our job to house these creatures safely, Sergeant. While I don’t disagree with your sentiment, I swore an oath to do them no harm.”

Rimmer nodded, he unfolded his arms and put them at his sides. “All I’m saying, sir, is that if we go into things with the best of intentions—to gain Intel—and something unforeseen happens, well, then nobody has anything to feel guilty about. Shit happens, as they say.”

Kane leaned back in his chair and nodded. “You know that there are more of those things? The faustlings, I mean. We have over a dozen of them at our other facilities.”

Rimmer nodded. “I know.”

“You do? How?”

“I have my sources. It pays to know people working at other facilities. It can give a heads up on any potential issues that may arise.”

Kane was getting a little irritated by his staff knowing things above their pay grade, but he supposed in Rimmer’s case it was acceptable. It was the man’s job to know things. “Then you understand that we need to learn more about these things. They’re planning something.”

“With all due respect, sir. I think the most important thing to learn about the faustling things is how to kill them. Perhaps putting the Manx man in with our own faustling will shine some light on how to achieve said termination.”

Kane thought about it and nodded his head at Rimmer. “Get it done. But get it done safely.”

“Of course.”

“And keep an eye on the Dennison-Joneses, and that English pest.”

“I’m on top of it, General. When was the last time we had a problem?”

General Kane frowned. “We haven’t had one in a long time. That’s what concerns me. I think we’re overdue.”

Chapter Eighteen

Andy was standing with Sun and Dr. Gornman as two of Rimmer’s men appeared in the hallway of subbasement 5 with a thick roll of steel mesh. Rimmer was with them, and broke away to talk to Andy.

“This is the best I could come up with at short notice. We’ll get the mesh secured through the center of the cell, but if either of them has more strength than they’re letting on, they may get through.”

Andy looked in at Lucas in his cell. The man didn’t seem particularly strong, but it was impossible to know for certain. “Okay, we’ll just have to hope for the best.”

“This cannot go wrong,” Dr. Gornman said. “General Kane won’t tolerate us making a mess of this. More to the point, neither will I.”

“Doing a wee spot of decorating, are we?” Lucas said, sitting inside his cell. “I wouldn’t mind a splash of cerise on these walls. Breathes a bit of life to a room, so it does.”

Andy went up to the glass. “You’re going to get a roommate. Can we trust you to behave while we get things ready?”

Lucas glanced around his tiny cell and huffed. “Hope this new fella isn’t going to take up a lot of room. Can nay swing a cat as it is.”

“The space you have is perfectly sufficient,” Gornman said. “And let me remind you that you placed yourself in there.”

“Aye, that I did, lass. ‘Twas your bright smile that lured me here.”

Gornman’s face remained stony.

“See?” Lucas said. “How could any man resist you?”

Rimmer nodded at Andy. “You ready?”

Andy nodded back.

Rimmer went over to the LED touchscreen beside Lucas’s cell and placed his thumb against it. He prodded through the menus and then typed in a passcode on the screen.

Suddenly there was a sharp hissing sound.

Andy turned to look into Lucas’s cell and saw that an amber substance was being pumped into the air from the ceiling. It quickly dissipated and mixed with the room’s existing atmosphere.

Lucas glanced upwards and frowned. “Did someone just let a cheeky fart loose in here?”

Then he began to cough and splutter, clutching at his throat.

“He’s fighting it,” said Rimmer. “Just give it a minute.”

They gave it a minute. Lucas dropped down to his knees, spat a wad of phlegm on the floor and started heaving.

Then he glanced up at them all and began chuckling. He straightened up and got back to his feet. “You’ll need something a wee bit stronger than gnat’s piss to put me down. I once smoked reefer with Bob Marley. Not a fat lot else has been able to touch me since.”

Andy’s shoulders slumped. Sun, who had remained silent throughout the last several minutes, came up beside him and shook her head. “We might have expected as much. His anatomy is a mystery, so why should we assume that he’s going to have a nervous system we can exploit with basic chemistry?”

Andy sighed. “So what should we do?”

“We should call it off,” Gornman said. “If we don’t have an effective plan of action then we need to go away until we come up with one. Mistakes are made by acting without proper thought or appropriate reflection.”

Lucas pressed his hands up against the glass and started mumbling something. His eyes rolled back in his head.

“What is he doing?” Sun asked her husband.

“I don’t know.”

Lucas’s words became louder. “…pen sesame. Open sesame… OPEN SESAME.”

The glass wall sprung aside on its rails, leaving Lucas’s cell wide open. The Manx man stood in the newly opened gap and grinned at them all. “Neat trick, huh? Of course, nothing beats a good bit of card magic, but a bit of variety never hurt anybody.”

Rimmer immediately signalled his men, who pointed their assault rifles at Lucas. Rimmer was only carrying a sidearm—what looked like a Glock—but he quickly pulled it from its holster and aimed. “Don’t move!”

Lucas held his hands up. “Come now, I’m just being helpful. You folks wanted to come inside, so now I’ve opened the door for you.”

“Get down on the floor,” Rimmer demanded.

“Such bad manners. These are my digs, not yours. I suggest you stop with the threats, fella. That heroic beard of yours ain’t fooling nobody.”

Rimmer took a step forward and gripped his handgun tighter, his knuckles growing white. “I don’t make threats, fella.”

Lucas chuckled. “Look out! We got ourselves a badass over here. I wonder how much of a badass you were when you were bleeding out into the sand of the Iraqi desert. You know that Lewis’s mother killed herself after she got the news that her son had died? You must feel really bad about that.”

Rimmer snarled and seemed very ready to shoot.

“Okay…” Andy spread his hands. “Let’s everybody calm down.”

“That sounds like a wise idea,” Lucas said, keeping his eyes on Rimmer and grinning slightly.

“Lucas? Will you let Rimmer and his men install a fence inside your cell? Will you try anything?”

“Not if he stops glaring at me with those beady little peepers of his.”

Andy turned to face Rimmer. “Rimmer?”

Rimmer kept his pistol up but glanced sideways at Andy. “I’m not about to trust this guy for a minute.”

“Then we have a problem,” Andy said. “Because he doesn’t seem to be all that bothered by your gun, and I would very much prefer that you didn’t shoot him.”

Rimmer lowered his gun by an inch, held it a second longer, and then lowered it all the way. “Fine, but if this guy even scratches his nose funny he’s getting a bullet right in the skull.”

“You can try it,” Lucas said. “Better men than you have. Then, when you fail, I’ll come out there and tie your limbs in knots and use you as a skipping rope. That isn’t a threat, neither.”

“You make it sound like you’ve done something like that before, Lucas,” Sun said.

He glanced at Sun. “That, and much worse, lass. We all have pasts. Living with oneself is a full time job. You have to learn to forgive your mistakes, and work hard not to make the same ones.” Then Lucas levelled his eyes at Rimmer. “But nobody is perfect. Anyone can backslide, even with the best of intentions. That be what the road to hell is paved with, they say. Now kindly order your men to stand down, before my intentions darken.”

They had a brief staring contest, then Rimmer gave a nod and the automatic weapons were lowered.

Andy blew out a breath. “Okay, now that the pissing contest is over, can we get started?”

Lucas nodded politely, and stepped to the side, bidding them entrance. Rimmer instructed his men, who quickly got moving with the thick roll of steel mesh. Another couple of guys appeared with some steel rods and a power drill. By the time five minutes had passed they had drilled and bolted the steel rods to the left and right walls of the cell and secured the mesh fence to them both. Lucas leaned against the back wall and was now trapped behind the mesh while the front of the cell was left open.

“Will the glass wall go back into place?” Sun asked.

Rimmer nodded. “It’s attached to runners. It will slide back into place once I log out of the cell’s control panel. We’re all set to move the other prisoner. You ready?”

Andy felt a lump form in his throat as he contemplated moving the batling out of its cell. The nightmare of Samhain came rushing back to him, and for a moment he was frozen to the spot.

Sun placed a hand on Andy’s back and rubbed.

Andy swallowed a lump in his throat and then spoke. “We’re ready, Rimmer. Get it done fast. Lucas may have been cooperative, but I assure you that the batling won’t be.”

Rimmer nodded and got to work. “Handler, log in and gas the cell.”

The security guard, Handler, nodded obediently before logging into the system as commanded.

Rather than holster his pistol, Rimmer kept it at his side, pointed at the floor. “We’ve all done this before,” he said. “It’s a routine crate job. Soon as the target is out, we move in and secure it.”

The men who had installed the steel mesh fence left momentarily and then returned with a large metal cage on casters.

“Okay, we’re a go,” said Rimmer.

Handler released the sleeping gas into the batling’s cell.

The batling smacked itself into the glass, leaving a bloody smear and making Andy jump.

“Trying toooo kill meeeeeeee?”

“Only a quick nap,” Andy said. “We have someone we want you to meet.”

Bub’s wings began to slow, and the act of staying airborne seemed to grow more difficult.

“Meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet?”

The batling tried to stay airborne but its wings moved as if they were mired in clay. After a few feeble flaps it dropped out of the air and thumped to the floor.

“Okay,” Rimmer shouted. “Move, move!”

Handler typed in the command for the glass barrier to slide away and the two other guards rushed into the cell. They threw a thick blanket over the top of the subdued batling and grabbed a hold of it. Together they managed to heave the batling upwards and started waddling backwards out of the cell. Handler left the control panel and stood beside the metal crate, holding the lid wide open.

“Quickly,” Rimmer said. “The gas took it down topside, but I don’t want to take any chances here.”

Rimmer’s men readjusted their grip on the blanket-wrapped batling and hurried their pace towards the open crate.

“Just dump it in,” Handler ordered, still holding the lid open.

The two men forced the batling into the crate and stepped back, panting. The creature was obviously heavier than it looked.

Handler shoved the lid closed with a BANG! and then locked the latch.

“Finally!” said Dr. Gornman. “I was beginning to doubt that you people could even—”

The crate’s lid sprung back open, smashing Handler in the sternum and sending him backward. The man hit the floor, wheezing.

The hair on the back of Andy’s neck prickled.

Oh, shit!

The batling shook off the blanket and leapt into the air, its wings flapping with renewed vitality.

“Take it down!” Rimmer ordered.

Andy reached for his wife, tugging her away from the ensuing gunfire. A nanosecond later the hallway erupted into deafening pops of automatic weapons.

Bub was riddled with bullets and his maw opened in a screech as blood rained down on everyone. The creature splatted to the floor, right next to Sun and Andy, reaching out a claw and slashing at Sun’s leg.

The gunfire stopped—Rimmer’s men were obviously trained well enough to not shoot with civilians next to the target—and Andy kicked Bub in the side of the head while pulling Sun away. Rimmer stood over the creature and emptied the Glock into Bub’s head, blowing away most of the batling’s skull and face.

Bub’s shredded wings fluttered, then went still.

“Drag it to the cell!” Rimmer ordered. “Now!”

As Rimmer and his men attended to Bub, Andy stared at Sun and saw her gripping the pulsing wound in her calf.

“Artery,” Sun said, her eyes going wide. She dropped onto her butt.

“Your belt,” Gornman told Andy. “Make a tourniquet. We need to get her into surgery, immediately.”

Andy undid his belt with shaking hands, and as he looped it around Sun’s thigh he made the mistake of looking at her wound, seeing bone peek out through the split muscle fibers. The blood continued to gush. So much blood.

Is that all hers? It can’t be. Such a small woman can’t bleed that much.

As Dr. Gornman cinched the belt tight, Andy knelt next to his wife, cradling her head. “It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay.”

Further down the hallway was the whoosh of Lucas’s cell door closing. They’d dragged Bub inside and locked him in. Andy had no doubt the demon—even though it was missing most of its head—was still alive.

“What the hell is going on here?” Kane shouted like a drill sergeant as he marched towards them from the direction of the elevator. His red cheeks looked ready to pop. “Who is responsible for this goddamn mess?”

Nobody answered.

Chapter Nineteen

Rimmer’s men had fetched a gurney and taken Sun up to the Spiral’s infirmary on level 3. The floor also acted as a warehouse. Men in work overalls shared the corridors with doctors and nurses.

Andy sat outside the operating room that a pair of nurses had rushed Sun into. Dr. Gornman had quickly followed, but it had been over an hour since Andy had heard anything.

I can’t lose you, Sun. Nothing would make any sense without you.

The sound of someone hurrying down the hall made Andy glance up from his thoughts. Jerry was racing towards him with a panicked look on his face. The young historian, Nessie, was right beside him.

“We heard your wife has been injured,” Jerry said. “Is she okay?”

“Still waiting,” Andy said. “She… she lost a lot of blood.”

Andy had never felt more tired, more afraid. He’d been in situations before where he had to fight for his life, and the fear and adrenaline had sustained him. But waiting to find out if the love of his life was going to survive was easily the worst thing he’d ever felt.

I never volunteered to fight evil. I’m not a goddamn monster hunter. I didn’t join Deus Manus. Why are we even here?

“I shouldn’t have let her come along,” Andy said.

“I don’t know you or Sun very well,” Jerry said, “but if she wanted to be here, I doubt very much you could have done anything to stop her.”

Andy let his head drop. “If she dies…”

Jerry placed a hand on Andy’s back and made him flinch. He did not enjoy the contact, but he did not move away.

“Things will be alright, man. Sun is really strong. She’ll be back and ready to kick arse in no time.”

Andy hoped that was true. Because if it wasn’t…

Then what?

Then I dedicate my life to wiping Bub off the face of the earth.

Dr. Gornman approached, her face revealing nothing. Andy stared, expectant.

“We stopped the bleeding and stitched up the wound. She needed four pints of blood, and was very close to hypovolemic shock.”

“Is she okay?”

“She’s tough. I think she’ll pull through.”

“I want to see her.”

“Of course. The nurses are just making her comfortable in one of the suites. Head inside and take the door on your left.”

Andy hurried into the operating theatre. It led into a wide corridor with several rooms running off it. He saw through the room’s windows that Sun was inside one of them along with two nurses. He barged through the door and moved beside his wife’s bedside.

The two nurses left.

“How you feeling?”

“Numb. Lidocaine and morphine. It’ll be a while before I play racquetball again.”

Andy choked up. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Me? Over that little scratch? You know I’m tougher than that.”

Andy gave her a gentle hug, like he was holding a baby bird. “We’re getting out of here,” he said. “Soon as you’ve rested. Let them deal with Bub. It’s not our problem.”

Sun eased him away, staring hard. “Is Bub in the cell with Lucas?”

“Yes.”

“Are they talking?”

“I don’t know. Bub was in pretty bad shape. He’s going to take a while to heal himself. There are cameras on them.”

Andy saw how his wife’s usually olive skin was now pale.

“We need to see this thing through to the end.”

“You almost died, Sun. You need to heal. And this isn’t a good place for it.”

“I have to stay, Andy.”

“Sun…”

“Andy, I have to stay.” She raised her left hand, and Andy saw her wrist was cuffed to the bedrail.

“What the hell is that?” Andy demanded. “That’s insane! They can’t keep you here!”

“Andy…”

“I’m going right to Kane and telling him—”

“Andy! I told them to cuff me.”

“What are you…” Andy’s voice trailed off as the realization hit him.

No.

Not that.

Anything but that.

“You think Bub… infected you?” Andy whispered.

“He clawed me. You know he’s got those stingers in his palms. You know he can manipulate DNA.”

“Were you stung?”

“I don’t know. I bled a lot. If he tried to inject me with his mutator serum, maybe none of it got into my system. But if it did…”

“How do you feel?”

Sun chuckled. “You mean, do I feel like I’m changing into a demon? That my cells are mutating? That I’m becoming possessed?”

Andy didn’t answer.

“I feel fine, Andy. But if I’m not… I… I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Is there any way to find out?”

“Other than waiting? Gornman is scheduling some tests. I guess we’ll know when we know.”

Andy hugged her again. She hugged him back.

“I also need you to do something for me,” she said into his neck.

“Anything.”

“If I do… change… this is where I need to be. If there’s any chance of a cure, it’s here. They’ve got all the Samhain data, and Gornman may be a bit of a bitch but she knows her stuff. But if it looks like they can’t cure me…”

“Sun, don’t talk like that.”

“If they can’t… Andy, I don’t want to be one of Bub’s minions. I don’t want to be controlled by him. I can’t think of anything worse. If it looks like I can’t be cured… I want you to put me out of my misery.”

“Jesus, Sun. That’s the most horrible thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Promise me.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“If you ever want to get laid again, you’ll promise me.”

Andy felt himself tear up. “Okay.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

There was a knock at the door.

Andy turned as Jerry poked his head through the door with an anxious look on his face.

“What is it, Jerry?”

“Sorry, just checking on you.”

“You can come in,” Sun told him.

Jerry slunk into the room like he was about to be scolded by his mother. “So you, ah, doing alright?”

“For the moment.”

“Good. I’m glad.” He nodded at Andy, and Sun. Then his gaze turned to a chair in the corner of the room, where Sun’s things were stacked. Her purse. Some clothing. The blue disc that accessed the doors.

“You can sit if you want to, Jerry,” Sun said.

Jerry nodded but stayed standing. “Nessie is in the library. We found that batling thing in some old books. People used to worship it.”

“Sometimes there isn’t a difference between religion and a totalitarianism,” Andy said. “Ruling by fear is the same whether it’s fascism, communism, dictatorship, or the church. We know Bub preyed on early mankind’s superstition and powerlessness. He’s been around long enough to be an archetype.”

“Is he really the devil?” Jerry asked.

“He’s a devil. I don’t know if that means he literally came from hell, or if he’s some psychotic life form from another world. But he doesn’t have our best interests in mind.”

Jerry rubbed his chin. “I don’t know if I believe in God. There’s too much shit in the world, you know? I mean, if God exists, he’s like a deadbeat dad who abandons his kids. Either that, or he’s a sadist who likes watching people suffer. Do you believe?”

“We’re atheists,” Andy said. “But we try to keep our minds open. That’s the point of science. You change your mind as new evidence comes in.”

“So what about this whole Deus Manus set-up? You think they really are keeping evil from the world?”

“I think they think they’re keeping evil from the world,” Andy said. “And some of the creatures they have here don’t look like they love humanity any more than Bub does. But I’ve found that, throughout history, a lot of people have done a lot of harm while claiming to do God’s work.”

“Uhhhh,” Sun groaned.

Andy’s head whipped toward her so fast he practically gave himself whiplash. “You okay, babe?”

“Starting to feel the pain now.”

“Should I get Dr. Gornman?”

Sun shook her head, reaching for him. “No. Stay with me.”

Andy turned to Jerry. “Do you mind?”

“I’ll, ah, be in the library with Nessie. I hope you feel better, Sun.”

Andy didn’t watch the kid leave. His eyes were locked onto his wife.

Chapter Twenty

Jerry headed for the conference room. From there he could make it into the dormitory wing and back to his suite. He was knackered after studying in the library for so long.

The small blue disk in Jerry’s pocket was burning a hole. He touched its rubbery surface and felt his stomach churn. What would happen when Sun realised he had stolen it from her bedside table? And why had he even stolen it in the first place?

Because I don’t want to be a prisoner like the things they have in these cells. I want to leave and get a million miles away from this place. I’ll happily give myself up to the police back home rather than stay here until they decide to ‘dispose’ of me.

Jerry passed through the heated atmosphere of the conference room, the space filled with the sound of computer exhausts humming out hot air.

Jerry stepped towards the door that led to the living quarters, but took pause.

If I’m going to get the hell out of here. I should do it now, while everyone is distracted with what’s just happened. I could make it to the lift and take it to the top. Sun’s fob should let me access the controls.

Jerry changed direction and headed out into the cellblock. The first cell now contained both the batling and Lucas, separated by a mesh of steel.

The batling was stooped over on the floor, its wings wrapped around itself. It was obviously healing after being fired upon. The Manx man stared down at the creature silently, but glanced upwards when he noticed Jerry.

“You off then, lad?”

Jerry stopped outside the cell and looked in. “What?”

Lucas smiled, although it lacked his usual cheeriness. “You’re leaving, I take it?”

“I…”

“It’s okay. Get going while you can. Things aren’t going to get any better around here.”

Jerry frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean this place is a madhouse and the inmates want blood. Leave while you’re able.”

“You want blood?”

“Not I,” said Lucas. “This ugly little blighter on the floor. He’s just getting started.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve been around a while. I know a lot about a lot. This one means to destroy the human race.”

Jerry looked down at the wounded creature and wondered how it could possibly be a threat to mankind. It was no bigger than a chimpanzee.

“Who the hell are you?” Jerry asked Lucas.

“Just an interested third-party. An observer, if you will.”

Jerry shook his head, rolled his eyes. “Dude, why you got to be all ‘riddle me this?’ Stop talking bollocks all the time.”

Lucas grinned. “You’ve become quite the man since I saw you last, Jerry-lad. I see your heart. It swells with a courage once absent.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you well, from a time forgotten by all but the most perceptive, but it’s of no import in this place and time. What’s important is that the angry little monster currently sleeping on the ground between us will soon be up and well again, and when he is, it would be better to be gone from this place. My advice to you would be to hurry up and get in that lift. Go home and face your punishment. Life may still hold promise for you.”

“How do you know about me? How do you know the things that I have done?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Lucas ran his fingertips across the mesh of the fence. He blinked slowly. “When faced with a man, I have little difficulty in reading the verses of his soul. Your past, your present—they are etched into your mind and body. And when read together, they hold glimmers of your future. Which is why I am telling you one more time to flee this place. I fear you will not live if you do not, lad. No one would blame you for running.”

Jerry frowned. He had planned on leaving anyway; that was why he was in the cellblock after all, heading for the elevator. Lucas’s warning only added to the argument for trying to escape.

“Don’t worry. I’m going. You take care, weird Irish guy.” Jerry turned and walked away. He fingered the rubber fob in his pocket, making sure it was still there. Then he headed down the corridor.

Just running away as usual. But what choice do I have?

Further on down there was a large bloodstain. It covered the floor in a congealed pool, and probably came from Sun. Jerry stepped around it squeamishly. There were also several patches of chipped concrete where bullets had doubtlessly struck.

The elevator was just up ahead, past the cell with the horrible-looking vampire thing. It snarled and hissed at him as he passed, beating at the glass with its twisted hands.

Gonna be really glad to get away from that nasty sod. He looks like he wants to rip me to pieces.

Then something else caught Jerry’s attention.

Wolfie sat up against the glass of his cell, wagging his tail and panting. When he saw Jerry pass by, he began to wiggle excitedly.

“Hey, Wolfie. How you doing?”

Wolfie yipped.

“I still can’t believe they have you locked up down here with monsters like that thing next door. You’re not a monster; you’re just an animal.”

Jerry thought about Lucas’s words and wondered if Wolfie would be alright once things turned bad. Was something bad really going to happen, or was the Irish guy just messing with him?

Can I really walk away and leave everyone here to die?

Wolfie jumped up on his hind legs and pawed at the glass with his front ones. His long pink tongue slurped across the glass.

Jerry smiled. “I wish I could take you out of here with me, buddy. I bet you’d love it in the woods up there on the surface.

He placed his hand against the glass and Wolfie licked at it from the other side.

I’ll probably be dead before I get within a mile away from this place.

Is there even any point trying to escape?

Wolfie never managed it and he’s been here for years. Poor guy. Wonder when’s the last time he even got out of that cell, or even had anyone to play with.

Jerry reached into his pocket and pulled out the blue rubber fob. He moved over to the LED screen for Wolfie’s cell and placed the fob against it.

I must be crazy.

The screen flashed green and beeped. Menus came up on screen and Jerry started to jab at them, trying to navigate towards what he was looking for. Then he found the command he wanted.

CELL ENTRY.

He prodded the screen.

ENTER CODE.

Jerry remembered what Kane had told Sun and Andy when he’d given them the disks, and punched in 1-2-3-4.

OPEN CELL. YES? NO?

He paused, finger hovering.

Then he pressed YES.

There was a shrill ringing, emanating from above the cell. The glass barrier began to slide away. Once it opened up to a gap of about four feet it stopped sliding. The ringing halted.

Jerry stared into the cell.

Wolfie stared right back, his ears pricked up like the tips of spears.

• • •

Kane’s computer blinked. His eyes narrowed. He glanced up at Rimmer and Gornman and then leapt out of his seat.

“What is it?” Rimmer asked, his hand instinctively moving over his holstered pistol.

Kane shoved past the two of them, heading for the door. “Someone’s opened up cell number 5. I did not authorize that.”

“Who?” Rimmer asked.

“Sun Dennison-Jones.”

“But she’s in the infirmary. She couldn’t be up on her feet yet.”

“Exactly.” Kane moused through his surveillance cameras until he came upon the werewolf’s cell. “It’s that British pest.”

• • •

Jerry stepped forwards into the gap between the glass barrier and the wall. Wolfie padded backwards, looking both curious and nervous—almost cowering. Up close, Jerry realized he had underestimated the size of the beast. Wolfie was closer to the size of a pony than a dog. It was clear by the animal’s body language that he was unused to someone being inside his cell. His fur had spiked up and his shoulders narrowed.

It’s his territory.

Jerry considered backing out of the cell and closing it again, if only because of the smell. The stench inside the cell was primal, beastly. It made his eyes water. Jerry looked down at a bundle of blankets that formed Wolfie’s bed and saw spoor mixed in with the straw that lined the floor. He also saw something else.

“Is that…”

Jerry reached down towards the blankets.

Wolfie let out a low, rising snarl.

Jerry slowed his movement, held out a hand. “It’s okay, boy. I’m not going to hurt you. Easy does it.”

Wolfie stopped snarling, but his lips remained curled.

Jerry grabbed the rubber ball amongst the tangled blankets and straightened up with it in his hands.

Wolfie hopped backwards, lowered on his haunches, his rear in the air. If not for the wagging tail, Jerry might have thought the animal was about to pounce.

“You like that, don’t you, boy? You like to play with your ball.”

Wolfie wagged his tail faster and yipped.

Jerry threw the ball. It sailed down towards the back of the cell and hit the rear wall, bouncing back the way it had come. Wolfie raced after it, leaping in the air as it almost sailed over his head. He spun around with the newly-captured prize in his mouth and flopped down on his belly, losing the ball so that it rolled back to Jerry’s feet.

Jerry bent down and picked up the ball, held it in the air. “You wanna go again?”

Wolfie reared up ecstatically and waited for the ball to be thrown again.

“You’re just a dog, aren’t you? Is the reason you’re down on subbasement 5 just because you took a chunk out of that asshole, Kane? I bet you were up on subbasement 1 before he came along.”

Wolfie wagged his tail, barked at Jerry.

Jerry threw the ball. This time he threw it harder and added spin, trying to add a bit of variety for Wolfie to enjoy. The ball bounced off the rear wall and this time it flew far over Wolfie’s head and back towards the front of the cell.

Jerry giggled at the sight of the huge beast sliding on its paws before spinning around excitedly and giving chase in the opposite direction. Wolfie threw himself across the cell like a bat out of hell, almost taking Jerry off his feet.

“Hey, Wolfie, stop. Slow down.”

The ball continued racing through the air and flew out of the gap between the barrier and the wall. Wolfie immediately followed, wagging his tail dementedly. Seeing that he had just inadvertently let the animal loose, Jerry sprinted out after him, urgently calling his name.

“Wolfie! Wolfie, back in your cell, before they—”

There was the sound of gunfire.

Wolfie flew sideways across the concrete floor. Jerry put his hands up and saw that Rimmer and Kane were standing in the corridor. Kane had a mean-looking revolver pointed out in front of him, the barrel smoking.

Jerry looked left and saw Wolfie’s large form panting on the ground and bleeding. His pained whimpers filled the cramped corridor.

“Wolfie!” Jerry attempted to rush to the animal’s side but Kane shouted him to a halt.

“You stay right where you are. One move and I’ll put you down, too.”

Tears in his eyes, Jerry turned to face the general. “We were just playing ball and I threw it too hard. Please, just leave him alone. He might still be okay.”

“You let out a monster, you fool.”

“He’s not a monster. He’s just a big dog.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. He was coming right at us.”

“He was chasing a goddamn ball!”

Jerry’s legs folded and he collapsed onto his side, moaning and crying. His blurry gaze met Wolfie’s as the two of them lay on the cold ground. Two outcasts, all alone in the world, so very far from home.

“It’s okay, boy. It’ll be okay.”

Wolfie whimpered. His eyes focused intently on Jerry as his pink tongue lolled out between his jaws. Jerry reached out, managed to place a hand on Wolfie’s snout. There was a brief wag of the animal’s tail and Jerry felt a lick against his wrist.

“I need a team and a containment crate in here immediately,” Rimmer said into the intercom on the wall.

It wasn’t necessary. As Jerry wrapped his arms around Wolfie and patted his massive head, the beast let out a lengthy sigh and closed its eyes for the last time.

Chapter Twenty-One

Andy stood up at Sun’s bedside. “Was that a gunshot?”

Sun said nothing. She was sleeping.

Andy sighed. “I really hate this place.”

He took off, heading out of the infirmary and into the conference room. Dr. Gornman stood with her arms crossed, looking irritated.

“What’s going on?” Andy asked her.

Gornman tutted and shook her head. “That young buffoon you brought along with you has just jeopardized the entire safety of the facility.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the idiot opened up one the cells.” Her eyes narrowed. “With your wife’s access fob, no less.”

Andy needed to see for himself. He raced out of the conference room and into the cell block. What he saw didn’t alleviate his confusion; it added to it.

Something lay on the floor, dead, bleeding, and covered in thick matted fur. Jerry was on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back, Rimmer standing behind him, looking predictably stoic.

Kane was standing over the dead animal. The look on his face was almost trance-like.

“What the hell is going on?”

Rimmer glanced up at Andy. “Stay there, Mr. Dennison-Jones. Your wayward companion has just tried to compromise this entire facility.”

Rimmer elaborated. “Kid opened up cell 5 and let the dog out.”

“The bastards killed him,” Jerry yelled. “They had no reason to. He was just chasing his ball. The… the bastards.”

“The shooting was justified. Sergeant Rimmer will vouch for me. The beast was running straight toward us. Isn’t that right, Sergeant?”

“It was. It shouldn’t have been out of its cell,” Rimmer said to Jerry.

“He was only on subbasement 5 because you hated him, you Nazi fucks. You have cameras all over. You could see we were just playing.”

“You were playing with a werewolf, kid,” Rimmer said.

“He wasn’t a werewolf! Did you shoot him with a silver bullet? No! And he’s dead. You killed the last one in the world, for no reason at all.”

Kane cleared his throat and said, “Mr. Preston, your recent actions qualify as terrorism. Your actions could have seriously compromised this facility and its agenda. Therefore, Sergeant Rimmer is going to incarcerate you under the terms of The Patriot Act of 2001. You will remain in custody for whatever time I deem fit.”

Jerry spat at the general’s feet. “Do what you gotta do, bitch.”

“You can’t be serious,” Andy said. “He’s not a terrorist. He’s just a kid.”

“He screwed up,” Rimmer said. Then he looked at Jerry. “What did you think was going to happen, kid? You were going to become best friends and run away together?”

“You’re all a bunch of wankers.”

“Take him away, Sergeant Rimmer,” Kane ordered. “You know what to do with him.”

Rimmer didn’t seem happy about it, and Jerry seemed even less happy, but it only took a few seconds for Rimmer to put Jerry into a submission hold and yank him to his feet. Jerry didn’t struggle as Rimmer led him away.

Kane turned his attention back to Andy. “Now, Mr. Dennison-Jones, the only question remaining is whether or not you had anything to do with this.” He produced one of the blue rubber fobs from his breast pocket. “This is, after all, your wife’s access fob, yes?”

“I didn’t even know that Jerry had taken it. My wife nearly died. I was by her side.”

“So how did he get the security code?”

“He was there when you told it to us, remember?”

Kane rolled his upper lip over his lower lip; nodded very slowly. “Okay. You’re dismissed.”

“What are you going to do with Jerry?”

“It isn’t your concern.”

Andy blew out a stiff breath. What else could he say? Jerry had apparently released a dangerous animal from its cage, and there wasn’t any way to defend that.

“Just let the boy go. Send him home to face the music.”

“Return to your wife, Mr. Dennison-Jones. She no doubt needs you. Let me worry about running the Spiral.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Andy headed through the conference room and back into the infirmary. When he got there, there were a couple of nurses milling about, and he asked them if his wife had woken while he’d been gone. He’d only been gone ten minutes but it felt much longer.

“We haven’t checked in on her,” said the nurse. “We thought you were still with her.”

Andy wasn’t happy to hear that, but he had left without informing anyone, so didn’t feel he had the ammunition to complain.

“Was that a gunshot I heard?” asked the nurse.

“Yes, but everything is under control.”

“Thank God for that.” The nurse smiled and went back to her duties.

Before Andy made it to Sun’s room, he bumped into Dr. Chandelling.

“Ah, Mr. Dennison-Jones. I was hoping to find you.”

“You were? Why?”

“I learned something about our Manx guest.”

“Lucas?”

Dr. Chandelling nodded enthusiastically. “All of the previous tests I conducted were fruitless. Then I had the idea of sending a picture of him to some acquaintances in the NSA. I figured if we can’t find out anything about his insides, we could see if there’s anything we can find about his identity. You see, I found that by cross-checking—”

Andy waved a hand. “I’m anxious to get back to my wife, Dr. Chandelling. What is it you’ve found?”

“Of course. I’ll get to the point.” Dr. Chandelling mumbled something else before producing a small tablet from the large side pocket of his lab coat. “Facial recognition software has reached a point where Internet images can be searched, and not surprisingly, the NSA does it all the time.”

“So the NSA can identify people from pictures posted online?”

“Yes. Here, take a look.”

Andy squinted at the shiny screen and saw a black and white photograph of a white man standing next to a man in a turban.

“This is Lucas with Atiyah Abd al-Rahman, second in command of Al-Qaeda. We believe it was taken a few weeks before 9/11.” Chandelling swiped his finger on the tablet and changed the picture. “Here Lucas is again, in 1994, with Juvénal Habyarimana. Habyarimana’s assassination was the catalyst for the genocide in Rwanda. Close to a million people killed.”

It was definitely Lucas.

“Now here he is in a picture with Pol Pot. This picture is dated between 1978 and 1979, during the Khmer Rouge period. You know what happened then, I take it?”

“More than two million Cambodians died.” Andy shook his head. “I don’t understand. How could he have been present during so many awful situations? How could he know they were going to happen? Is he psychic?”

“He’s much more than that.” Dr. Chandelling typed something into his tablet before turning it back around so that Andy could see. “Take a look at this one.”

Andy’s mouth hung open. “That’s… Adolf Hitler.”

“Yes. And that’s Lucas standing right behind him in a Shutzstaffel uniform. The United Nations have never been able to identify the man in the picture before. He has remained a mystery.”

“And now we have him in subbasement 5.”

Chandelling nodded slowly. “There are two things to be gleaned from this. Number one is that Lucas has been present at several truly awful human events—genocides and mass murders, wars. Number two; I will allow you to come to the conclusion on your own.”

Andy stared at the tablet for a few moments; looked at the spitting image of Lucas standing behind the Fuhrer. “He hasn’t aged. He looks exactly the same in this photograph of World War Two as he does now.”

“Absolutely fascinating, wouldn’t you agree? One more picture. Not as clear, because of its age. We had to clean it up digitally, but the NSA spooks say it is a 93% match.”

Chandelling clicked on an old, faded, sepia-toned picture of a man in a Calvary uniform, perched on a horse. He was instantly recognizable by his huge mustache.

“George Armstrong Custer,” Andy said.

“And look who is on a horse, to his left.”

In a cavalry uniform, smiling pleasantly, was Lucas. “That’s… impossible.”

“Not only does Lucas have no discernable DNA, but apparently he doesn’t age, and has been around since at least 1876. He apparently has met with key people involved in some major historical events that led to innumerable deaths.”

Andy rubbed at his eyes with his palms. He felt exhausted. “I need to speak with Sun,” he said. “I need to think this through.”

“Of course,” Chandelling said. “I’m going to share this with Kane. I believe the threat Lucas presents has gotten many times greater.”

Andy nodded as Chandelling left.

Was Lucas over a hundred and fifty years old? It seemed impossible, but so did the majority of the occupants of the Spiral. And could this mild-mannered Manx man—so polite and soft-spoken—somehow be involved in countless deaths?

Andy wanted to ask his wife what she thought. But when he reached her room, Sun wasn’t there.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lucas clung to the steel-mesh fence and watched as the batling unfurled its wings on the other side. It still had not yet fully recovered from its injuries, but was making quick progress.

And then the fun and games will no doubt begin.

Lucas sighed. His presence here had been of his choosing, but as time passed by he was growing apprehensive.

The batling opened its eyes and glanced around. When its baleful gaze fell upon Lucas, its eyes opened yet wider. “Youuuuu.”

Lucas nodded. “Aye, ‘tis me.”

“It has beeeeen a looooooong tiiiiiiime.”

Lucas folded his arms, pressed his forehead up against the steel mesh. “It has indeed been some time. Yet our re-acquaintance has come about far too quickly for my liking.”

The creature they called Bub stretched out its wings, rolled its head on its shoulders with an audible crack, and then grinned, its mouth opening like a drawer of steak knives.

“I reeeemember Gomorrah,” Bub said. “Your lust for bloooooooooood was insatiable.”

Lucas closed his eyes, not to reminisce but to forget—to force away the images that rushed through his mind like a blood-red waterfall. “I was a different being back then. Ignorant of many things. Many things that are clear to me now.”

“What riddles dooooooooo yooooou speak, liiiiiiigght bearer?”

“I speak of beauty and strength. I speak of humanity and its ceaseless endeavor to find hope wherever there is despair. I speak of Manchester United and LOLcats. It’s been an interesting few thousand years, watching them develop.”

“Your haaaaaaaate is goooooone.”

“I gave up on hate. I encourage you to do the same. Living with humanity isn’t as boring as you’d think. They’re capable of great things.”

Bub’s demonic eyes narrowed. “You shall beeeeeee among the bodies when this plaaaaaaace turns to dust. Your remains will smoke for all eeeeeeeeternity.”

Lucas grinned. “I’m not much of a smoker. Bad habit, you know?” He pulled away from the fence and turned his back on his cellmate. “You underestimate humanity, as once did I. It might come back to bite you in the arse. Did once already, I hear. Sorry I missed that one. Samhain, wasn’t it? I hadn’t even known they’d dug you up. I’m not as well informed as I once was.”

“You will beeeee the first to dieeeeeeeeee.”

“Killing me isn’t going to be as easy as you think, but you’re welcome to try.”

“I will doooooo more than tryyyyyyyyyyyyy.”

“I expect you will. So what is your grand plan, then? Kill me, escape here, destroy most of humanity and enslave the rest?”

“My vengeaaaaaance,” Bub said, grinning horribly, “will beeeeeeeeee biblical.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Andy rushed into Sun’s room, stopping abruptly at the foot of her bed.

She wasn’t there. The handcuffs were still attached to the bedrail. They were bloody.

He did a quick turn, looking all around, including under the bed and in the bathroom.

“Sun!” he shouted.

Andy turned back to face the doorway. Dr. Chandelling was standing there, seemingly baffled. “She’s not here?”

“No. Get the nurse.”

Dr. Chandelling nodded and went to turn away, but instead he froze in place, his features contorting into a picture of horror.

Andy caught sight of the man’s fear and spun around. At first he saw nothing, but when he looked up…

Sun hung from the ceiling, upside-down, her legs curled around an overhead beam. Her face twisted in a snarl, and her tangled hair was matted with sweat. And the hand that had been handcuffed to the bed…

Sun’s thumb was broken, bending the wrong way, the bone jutting out and dripping blood.

“Jesus Chr—”

Dropping down like a bird of prey, Sun landed on her husband, pinning him to the floor. The sudden weight on Andy’s chest knocked all the breath from his lungs.

Dr. Chandelling cried out, almost feminine in his high pitch. Sun’s head swivelled in his direction, a line of drool escaping her bared teeth. She growled.

“I don’t think she’s well. No, not at all,” Dr. Chandelling said, backpedalling out of the room.

“Hoooooow are yoooour eeeeeeears?” the creature said.

Dr. Chandelling practically tripped over himself to get out of the room.

Andy fought to suck in air as he reached up for his wife’s shoulders, trying to push her off. She slashed at his face, drawing blood from talons—Jesus, she has talons. Then she cocked her head and stared down at him, her demonic features softening.

“Aaaaaaaandyyyyyy.”

Andy fought two conflicting emotions, each primal and overpowering; the need to help the woman he loved vs. the need to get the hell away from the monster she’d become.

He gasped. “Sun? Are you in there? Can… can you understand?”

“Suuuuun is goooone.”

She smiled, and her tongue flitted out between her lips. A thin, black tongue, split at the end like a snake’s.

Sun leaned down, as if to kiss him, but instead began to lap at the slash mark on his cheek. Her tongue was cold and clammy, like a raw piece of liver being dragged over his face. It dug into his wound, twisting around and causing sparks of pain. Then it slipped between his lips, wiggling and trying to get past his clenched teeth.

Andy did all he could not to vomit.

“Oh my God!”

A nurse had come into the room while Andy pushed against the creature that was once his wife. Sun’s head snapped up at the intrusion, twisting one-hundred-and-eighty-degrees so it faced the wrong way. Andy heard Sun’s neck vertebra pop in rapid succession, like stepping on a roll of bubble wrap.

“Hellooooooooooo nurse.”

“Sedate her!” Andy screamed.

Sun jerked up to her feet, as if unseen hands were pulling her, and then she ran backwards at the nurse. Her shoulders dislocated with a sharp SNAP! as they stretched out behind her, reaching for the woman.

The nurse screamed, and Andy kicked out a leg, tripping his wife and sending her backward—or rather face-first—to the floor.

“Get Gornman!” he bellowed, then crawled onto Sun’s legs, trying to pin her down.

Sun’s torso twisted, her spine torqueing in half, so once again her head and arms faced him. She looked like a doll with its parts all misaligned.

Andy’s mind couldn’t comprehend it all. This was his wife. His mind was overloaded with fear, and revulsion, and sorrow, and love, and as much as he wanted to get away from her, Andy also wanted to hold Sun tight enough to stop her from turning herself into knots.

But it was like wrestling a giant, wriggling cobra that wanted to bite you. She writhed in his grasp, slashing with her talons, hissing as her long tongue managed to slide itself up Andy’s left nostril.

Andy shook his head, trying to dislodge the squirmy invader, choking as it forced itself through the nasal passage and into Andy’s throat.

Then, suddenly, the tongue pulled out and Andy noticed someone giving Sun a shot in the neck with a large syringe.

“Goooooonrmaaaaaaaan!”

Sun bucked Andy off, sending him flying backward, and then twisted onto all fours and slashed at Dr. Gornman with her clawed hand.

The doctor dodged the blow, leaving the syringe sticking out of Sun’s neck. Sun clawed at it, pulling it out, and then bolted through the door.

“She won’t get far,” Gornman said. “I gave her enough azaperone to drop a rhino.”

Andy got to his feet and scrambled out into the hall.

Sun was nowhere to be seen.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Dr. Chandelling ran to his room, his back against the locked door. It had taken him a long time to adjust to working around monsters, and they’d always been locked up. To have one loose in the Spiral was enough to make his bladder clench.

With his desktop computer he could view the surveillance cameras—he was only one of a few Spiral employees who had complete access to the entire facility—but Chandelling was too frightened to check. What if that creature Sun Dennison-Jones had become was killing people? Chandelling couldn’t bear to watch that.

Or even worse… what if it was outside his door?

The door to his room was for privacy, not security. A good shoulder butt would pop it out of its jamb, easily. The heavy duty security was meant to keep the creatures in their cells, not prevent them from getting into employees’ rooms.

Chandelling put his ear against the door, closing his eyes, trying to listen.

He heard some ruckus, screaming, but it was far away.

The seconds ticked by.

The screaming stopped.

Then there was silence.

Chandelling held his breath. He could hear his own heartbeat, a drum solo tap-tap-tapping in his chest.

More silence.

More seconds passing.

Chandelling was gathering up the nerve to go to his computer when something scratched the door.

Something like a claw being dragged across the wood.

Chandelling recoiled, crab-walking on all fours away from the sound, bumping into his desk.

For a moment, he wondered if he imagined the noise. His fear making him hear things that weren’t really there.

Clearing his throat, he managed to squeak out, “Is anyone there?”

No answer.

Louder, Chandelling asked, “I said, is anyone there?”

“Yeeeesssssssssssssssss.”

The door burst inward, and the Sun-demon scurried inside Chandelling’s room on all fours. Chandelling was too frightened to move, rooted to his spot on the floor like a deer paralyzed by the headlights of an oncoming truck.

The Sun-demon crawled up to him, placing a taloned hand on his chest. She smiled, a black tongue darting out of her mouth and poking Chandelling in the nose. Then it snaked around and—

Jesus, no!

My ear! That vile thing is in my ear!

Chandelling began to buck and push as hard as he could. He remembered a date, decades ago, a girl had kissed his ear and he’d freaked out. This was a billion times worse.

He felt his ear canal fill with warm, slimy tongue, pushing in deeper, deeper, until it rested up against his ear drum.

Chandelling wet himself. The tongue withdrew suddenly, with a wet slurping sound.

“Yoooooour card keeeeeeeeeey,” the creature said.

That would be bad. With the card key, the creature had access to the entire Spiral. It could even escape.

Or could it? Chandelling remembered that the most secure parts of the facility, including the surface exit, required a security code. The card would let it use the elevator, and run around the halls, but there were cameras everywhere except for employees’ rooms. Rimmer and his team would deal with this monster quickly. In fact, they were probably already on their way.

So giving up his card key wasn’t an act of treason. It would be harmless. And besides, he could always say the Sun-demon simply stole it from him.

“Jacket p-pocket…” he managed.

Its claw deftly sliced open the breast pocket on his lab coat and snatched the key.

“Coooooooooooooooooode.”

Shit. It knows about the security codes.

Chandelling was terrified, but he realized he couldn’t answer. He’d sworn an oath to make sure the monsters in the Spiral never got out. Upon penalty of death. Just one of these monsters, loose in the world, could cause untold disaster. And Chandelling had little doubt that General Kane, who walked around like he had a broomstick shoved up his ass, would follow the rules to the letter and execute Chandelling for giving away secrets.

So Chandelling summoned up a deep reserve of courage he didn’t even know he possessed and told the creature, “No.”

The demon grabbed Chandelling by the side of the head, and there was a moment of white-hot, blinding pain, followed by a tearing sound. Chandelling thrashed, trying to free himself, and when he focused on the demon once more it was dangling something pink over Chandelling’s face.

That’s my ear!

“Cooooooooooooooooooooooooooooode.”

Chandelling screamed as blood flowed into his ear canal and muted the hearing on his right side. The silence, its meaning, the memories it brought back; it overwhelmed him.

The Sun-demon moved her mouth to Chandelling’s other ear.

Chandelling thought, in rapid succession: She’s going to bite it off. She’s going to bite off my ear.

Then: I’ll have no ears. My hearing will be ruined.

And finally, incongruously, ridiculously: How will I wear sunglasses? Duct tape them to my head?

But she didn’t bite. Instead, the demon whispered. “I will feeeeeeeed you your eeeeeeears. Then I shall pop your eeeeeear druuuuums.”

“H-how did… how you know?” he asked, whimpering.

“Gooooormaaaaaan. She shoooooowed us your personnel fiiiiiiles.”

Dr. Gornman. That traitor. What was her angle?

Chandelling didn’t care. He didn’t care about Kane, either.

All he cared about was his hearing. He couldn’t lose it again. He’d rather die.

“I-I heard y-you have healing powers. C-can you fix my ear?”

The demon cocked its head. “Weeeeeee caaaaaaaaaan.”

“You… you can fix me… and you’ll let me live?”

“Yessssssssssssssssssssssssssss.”

Chandelling had never believed in God. He’d prayed too many times for the earaches to end, for his hearing to return, for his life to get better, and God hadn’t helped.

Maybe he’d been praying to the wrong guy all along.

“My code is 6-4-5-6,” he blurted out.

Chandelling half-expected the Sun-demon to kill him right then. He realized, belatedly, that he should have gotten it to heal him first.

But instead of ripping out his throat, it released him.

Chandelling cleared his throat. “So… you’ll heal me?”

“This vessel caaaaaaaaaannnnnot. The other mussssssst.”

“The batling?”

“Yesssssssssssssss. Waaaaaaait heeeeeeeere.”

The demon dropped Chandelling’s ear on his chest, then sprung to its feet and fled the room.

For a moment, Chandelling was in shock and unable to move. Then he finally pushed past the fear and pain and sat up, his ear falling to the floor. He picked it up, unsure of what to do with it, and caught sight of his aquarium in his peripheral vision.

Cool water. I can keep it in cool water until Bub can fix it.

Chandelling sprang to his feet, scurrying to the aquarium. His goldfish, Satchmo, eyed him passively. With no further thought, Chandelling opened the feeder panel on the tank and dropped his ear inside. It sank slowly, billows of blood staining the water around it, and finally came to rest on the multicolored gravel at the bottom.

There. That will keep it cold. Now I just need to stop the bleeding and—

Satchmo, normally docile, raced up to the ear and began to nip at it with the ferocity of a piranha.

“Satchmo! No!”

Chandelling banged on the glass, but the goldfish was in a feeding frenzy, attacking the ear in rapid nips, eventually getting the lobe into its tiny mouth and swimming for its little underwater castle.

Chandelling tore off the top of the tank and spent the next two minutes trying to grab Satchmo and get his ear back.

He failed.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Dr. Gornman watched her computer monitor while chewing on a wart she had on the knuckle of her thumb. The camera she’d selected was outside of Dr. Chandelling’s room, which she’d selected after Sun had broken in. There were no security cameras in private rooms—a silly privacy issue Gornman had never understood—so she had no idea what was happening inside.

Had the demon killed him?

Gornman had given it every opportunity to. She’d showed the Bub batling personnel files on all the staff members, holding them up to its cell glass, assuming a creature of such high intelligence could read quickly. The demon knew everything she did about every employee in the Spiral. Then she’d diluted the knock-out gas and tampered with the moving crate, weakening the lock before they attempted to transfer the demon. Her goal was for Bub to escape, and the goal was a selfish one.

Everyone knew that if you made a deal with the devil, you got whatever you wanted.

When Bub had bitten Sun, Gornman had given her shots of saline, saying it was broad spectrum antibiotics. If Bub had infected her, as Gornman hoped, she didn’t want to accidentally halt the process.

Sun had become infected, in a big way, and Gornman had given her an amphetamine shot, saying it was a tranquilizer.

Now she had to wait and see if Bub was as smart as the Samhain debacle showed he was.

If he was, then Sun would soon free him, and Gornman could make her demands.

She had a few doozies.

No doubt Bub would take over the world. Gornman had studied the Samhain event like it was her graduate thesis, and was convinced the demon was destined to rule mankind.

It would need a second-in-command. How did the old saying go?

I’d rather reign in hell than serve in heaven.

Gornman had been serving in hell—the Spiral—for far too long. Working with military idiots and ambitious bureaucrats and short-sighted scientists who cared more about useless research than practicality. Gornman’s vision, and her leadership skills, had been ignored. She’d been predicting Bub’s arrival for years, and now nothing would stop her from attaining the power she deserved.

Chandelling’s door swung open, and the Sun-demon hurried through. It was too fast to make out any major details, but Gornman clearly saw a key card in its claw.

It had gotten Chandelling’s access card. And no doubt his code as well.

She leaned back in her chair, smiling, and then switched cameras, following the demon as it headed for the elevator.

As expected, it chose subbasement 5.

Going to free its master.

Dr. Thandi Gornman smiled.

Let the games begin.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Rimmer led Jerry down a hallway, past a cell containing a long, shiny log with hundreds of legs.

Jerry squinted through the window. The log began to twist and undulate.

A tree that could move?

No, make that a giant centipede. One with mandibles large enough to grab a lamb, and black, beady eyes the size of baseballs.

Bloody terrifying.

I’m already terrified enough. Rimmer is probably leading me to my death.

Will he shoot me?

Or worse—stick me in one of these cells with some monster, or the unicorn like he promised?

“So what now?” Jerry said, barely able to keep his knees from knocking together as he marched toward uncertainty. “You make me kneel down, put two in the back of my head?”

Rimmer didn’t respond. Not a good sign. Jerry had been partly kidding, but now he wondered if he was, indeed, marked for execution.

Jerry turned to look at him while he walked. He forced bravado. “So, do you kill innocent people a lot in your line of work? Or is this a special treat? Most people just get their kicks on Call of Duty.”

Rimmer kept his stare forward. “You’re not innocent, Mr. Preston. You committed an attack against one of this nation’s secure, top-secret facilities.”

“I was playing fetch with an over-sized dog. That’s my only crime. You saw it yourself.”

“It’s not my place to say.”

“No, you just take orders. You’re as much a dog as Wolfie was.”

“Keep moving.” Rimmer’s pager on his belt went off. He checked the number. “Faster. I’ve got to go.”

So this is it. I’m dead. This goose-stepping lackey is going to murder me in cold blood.

Jerry’s thoughts turned to his mother, and how an embrace from her would hold value above all else at that moment. He thought about Ben, about stealing from his estranged father. He thought about fighting back when Rimmer pulled his trigger and dying like a man.

“Why don’t you just do it here?” Jerry said, stopping, forcing himself not to cry. “In the hallway, for the cameras to see? Or does Kane want this kept off the record?”

Rimmer placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a firm push, getting him walking again. “No one is going to kill you, Jerry.”

“Kane said to take care of me.”

“I’m going to put you in a cell.”

“With what? The Loch Ness monster?”

“No.”

“A Medusa, with snakes for hair? Medusas freak me out. They’re like my nightmare fuel.”

“Your own cell. Jerry.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

Jerry considered it. The relief he felt was short lived. Being locked up down here, possibly forever, would be even worse than death. Just one more exhibit in Hell’s zoo. He wondered how often they’d change the hay in his cage.

“What’s going to happen to Wolfie’s body?” he asked, mostly to take his mind off of his own situation.

“The werewolf?”

“He’s not a werewolf. If he was, he would have turned back into a man when that fascist, Kane, killed him.”

“Not all werewolves are shapechangers. That’s a legend. You know that vampire sucker thing on level 5? The Nosferatu? That’s probably where part of the werewolf legend came from. Men who turned into monsters with sharp teeth who acted like animals and ate babies. Wolfie, as you call him, probably got mixed up in the legend. I was surprised he died so easily. He may not have been a man who changed when the moon was full, but he was more than just a big dog. Incredibly strong and resilient. Resistant to aging and injury. The only thing he reacted negatively to was silver. Classic werewolf traits. He was…” Rimmer’s eyes seemed to go out of focus for a moment. “Well, he was one helluva animal.”

Jerry raised an eyebrow. “It almost sounds as if you liked him.”

“You were playing ball with Wolfie?”

“You know I was.”

“Who do you think gave him that ball?” Rimmer asked.

“Nessie did.”

“Nessie liked him. But the ball—that was mine.”

Jerry considered it. Maybe Rimmer wasn’t as big of a tool as he’d thought. “So where is he?”

“He’s in the morgue now. I’ll make sure his body is properly disposed of.”

“He won’t be fed to the spiders?”

“No. He’ll be studied and preserved. He was one of a kind.”

“So, aren’t you pissed off? Your commanding officer killed Wolfie for no reason at all.”

“Being pissed off doesn’t keep me from following orders, Jerry.”

“That’s a total cop-out.”

“Whatever. We’re here.”

They were in front of a seemingly empty cell.

“You sure it’s empty?” Jerry asked, dubious.

“Do you see anything inside?”

“Could be filled with invisible, man-eating pythons.”

“It’s not.” Rimmer used his fob to access the LED panel and opened the steel door.

“Well, bugger it, what am I supposed to do in here? Is there a television?”

Rimmer shoved him in and began to shut the door.

“C’mon, mate! At least give me a magazine or something!”

Rimmer paused. Then he reached into his pocket—

—and took out a rubber ball.

Wolfie’s.

He tossed it to Jerry, and then a siren began to wail, the overhead lights starting to blink.

“What the fuck is that?” Jerry asked, pocketing the ball.

Rimmer’s eyes narrowed. “Security breach. We’re in lockdown.”

The idea of a security breach in the Spiral scared the piss out of Jerry.

“Shit. Did something get out? Are we trapped down here?”

Rimmer didn’t answer. If there were monsters running around, the last place Jerry wanted to be was locked in a cell, unable to run. If it was Bub—and Jerry had a hunch it was—that demon was smart enough to get out of his cell, which meant it was smart enough to get inside the cells. If Jerry stayed locked up, he would basically be the equivalent of convenience food.

Out of all the terrible ways to die, being eaten was probably the worst.

Jerry made his eyes go wide as he looked beyond Rimmer. Then he raised his hand and pointed. “Oh, shite! Behind you!”

Rimmer swung around, reaching for his sidearm, and Jerry bumped him hard as he could, sending the man sideways, and then went running down the hallway in the opposite direction, heading for the elevator. He pressed the button and the doors opened immediately. Jerry popped inside and watched as Rimmer snarled at him. Jerry frantically looked for some button to press, but there were none.

Voice activated. It’s voice activated.

“Level one,” Jerry said.

The doors remained open.

“Doors close.”

They didn’t close.

Rimmer began to charge toward the elevator.

“Come on, you bloody lift, move!” Jerry remembered he no longer had that fob thing. The elevator likely wouldn’t work without it. Rimmer was only a few meters away, and he didn’t look happy. Jerry winced at what he assumed would be a punch in the face at the minimum.

Then, magically, the doors began to close. They finished closing right before Rimmer reached them, and Jerry blew out a big breath of relief. The elevator began to rise, and Jerry wondered if maybe he didn’t need a fob after all.

It stopped on subbasement 1. Not the surface, but a definite improvement.

At least, it seemed like an improvement until the lift doors opened and Jerry found himself tackled by imps.

They leapt on him en masse, clinging to his limbs. Small, green, somewhat clammy Smurf-like creatures that freaked Jerry out so bad he began to scream as he tried to shake them off. They screamed in response, shrill like monkeys, but the family of four clung to his arms and legs like they were tied on; the world’s ugliest fashion accessories. Several of them were pointing back into the hall.

Jerry controlled his hysteria long enough to glance upward—

—seeing Sun Dennison-Jones in front of a cell, opening it up and releasing…

It’s the unicorn.

The cell opened and the magnificent equine trotted out, then let out a nicker. The nicker became a scream when Sun stuck it in the nose. But it wasn’t a simple slap. Jerry took a closer look and noticed that Sun’s hands had become claws.

She wasn’t Sun anymore. She was a monster.

A monster who was releasing all the other monsters.

The unicorn reared up on its hand legs, pawing the air, and then charged past Sun, toward the elevator, horn lowered like a rhino.

“Close!” Jerry commanded the elevator doors, the imps clinging to him momentarily forgotten.

The doors stayed open, but his shouting got Sun’s attention. She smiled at him, her mouth crammed with fangs.

“Close, goddammit!”

The unicorn picked up speed. It’s eyes were wide with terror, and Jerry imagined getting impaled on its horn. It truly would be one of the most painful ways to die, while also being one of the gayest.

“No no no no no no…”

The imps clutching Jerry began to repeat “no no no” as well, but higher-pitched and faster. It would have been kind of cute if Jerry wasn’t seconds away from wetting his pants in fear.

When the unicorn was less than a meter away from the lift, the doors finally began to shut—

—and the horn wedged itself between the doors. Jerry backed away, bumping into the rear of the lift, his jaw hanging in horror as the creature forced the doors back open.

And that’s when the imps dropped off Jerry and attacked, flinging themselves at the unicorn going straight for its eyes with their tiny hands. The beast grunted, retreating a few meters back, and the imps jumped back into the elevator just as the doors shut.

“Yes!” Jerry shouted, pumping a fist into the air.

“Yes yes yes yes,” they said in their preternatural helium voices, also repeating his fist gesture.

Cool.

“You guys are little gangsters. Cheers.”

The imps began to chitter at one another. The elevator continued to rise, coming up to the Nucleus.

“Get behind me,” Jerry said. “We don’t know what’s on this floor.”

The imps stared at him. Jerry got on one knee, using his arms to corral the family behind him. When the lift stopped, Jerry held his breath, expecting the worst.

Which is exactly what he got, because as soon as the elevator doors opened, six men pointed automatic weapons directly at Jerry’s head.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Andy had an idea where his wife had gone.

Actually, not his wife. That thing his wife had become. That monster wasn’t Sun. It was Bub, controlling her DNA. Bub had infected her, altering how she looked and acted. Almost as if Sun were possessed. But he knew the cause was physical, not spiritual. Sun had some kind of disease.

Which meant, hopefully, she could be cured.

Hopefully.

Until then, he had to figure out some way to protect her. If there was even a tiny chance of getting Sun back, Andy would do whatever it took.

That, however, would pose a problem. Shortly after Sun ran off, the Spiral went on full alert. Rimmer’s men were all armed and looking for targets to shoot. One target in particular.

Andy had gotten to Kane’s office just as the General was leaving.

“You can’t kill her,” Andy demanded, holding out his palm and keeping the older man from advancing.

Kane’s eyes narrowed. “It isn’t your wife anymore, Mr. Dennison-Jones. It’s a demon.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Oh, really?” Kane stepped back, and Andy followed him to his computer monitor. Kane typed in a command, and Andy stared at the security footage, watching as Sun opened cell after cell, freeing terrifying creatures.

“If we don’t stop her right now, at this rate she’ll have released every guest within the hour.”

“You don’t have to kill her.”

“Dr. Gornman tried a sedative. It didn’t have any effect. The knock-out gas didn’t work on the faustling, either.”

“You can capture her. A net. Or force her into a cell.”

“And risk the lives of those under my command?”

“Please, General. It isn’t Sun who’s doing this. It’s Bub. If you kill Bub, she could return to normal.”

“Is that so?”

Andy didn’t think so. Sun had an infection, and the infection affected her thoughts. It was unlikely that Bub, if destroyed, would cure Sun. But if Kane focused on killing the demon, maybe it would buy Sun some more time.

“What if it was someone you loved?” Andy implored. “Wouldn’t you try?”

Kane sighed, his lips pursed. Then he said, “I can’t make any promises. My first duty is to this facility, to make sure the visitors are detained and never reach the outside world. My second is the protection of those who work here. But if I can fulfil those duties, and still contain your wife without destroying her, I’ll try.”

“Thank you, General. Do you know where she is?”

Kane frowned, then typed another command on the keyboard. It was a camera on subbasement 5, Sun rushing up to it and tearing it off the wall, making the image go dark.

“She’s destroying some of the surveillance cameras as she opens the cell doors. We’re sending a team down.”

“How is she opening the cells?” Andy asked.

Kane didn’t answer.

“General?”

“She apparently got a key card and the access code from Dr. Chandelling, after she tore off his ear. He’s in the infirmary.”

“Can’t you change his code?”

“No. It’s a safeguard. The key personnel all have unique codes. That way, if there is a breach in the chain of command, others can override it. Several of us have the power to secure the facility.”

“What do you mean by secure? You mean fill it up with cement?”

Kane stayed silent. Andy made his hands into fists, trying not to let his anger bubble over. This was Samhain all over again. History hadn’t taught these people anything.

Then again, it apparently hadn’t taught Andy anything either, or else he and Sun would have never come here.

“Just don’t kill her,” Andy said, quickly leaving the office.

Out in the hall, he startled to the sound of automatic gun fire. It was very close. Andy placed his back against the wall and peeked around the corner.

Three guards were shooting at something unseen further down the hallway.

A millisecond later, one of the men was pounced upon by something large, covered in colorful feathers.

It was the dinosaur. Achillobator. Tall as a man, five meters long, with a head bigger than a crocodile’s and taloned feet that tore open the soldier as easily as unzipping a sleeping bag. Guts spilled out, and the creature immediately opened wide and bit off the second man’s head before the soldier had a chance to adjust aim. The third turned and tried to run, but the achillobator’s tail whipped around like a stingray, impaling him through the back and out his chest.

Charged with adrenaline, Andy sprinted in the opposite direction, heading for the elevator. A small tree fell before him, and Andy jumped over it before realizing it wasn’t a tree at all, but a giant centipede, brown and thick as the trunk of a forty-year old oak. He glanced over his shoulder as he ran, and the insect reared up, its mandibles clicking and antenna whipping around furiously just as the dinosaur plowed into it. The centipede quickly wrapped around the prehistoric creature, coiling like a python, and Andy called the elevator with his key fob, unable to turn away from the two monsters as they locked in mortal combat.

As they battled, something else slunk around the corner. It looked like a giant bird of prey, with a massive, curved beak and sharp black eyes. But as the full animal came into view, Andy saw its back half was that of a lion.

The griffon.

It focused on Andy, and the feathers on its neck ruffled, standing on edge. Then its maw opened wide and it let out a terrifying screech that made Andy feel faint. It hunkered down—

stalking mode—and its yellow talons click-click-clicked on the tile floor as it slunk toward Andy.

This is bad.

Andy thought of the countless nature shows he’d seen over his lifetime, where some predatory bird gripped its prey and tore off strips of flesh while it struggled to escape, and he was hard pressed to think of a worse way to die.

The griffon crept closer, and Andy shrunk against the elevator doors, no clue at all how to defend himself. What do you do when a gigantic eagle/lion hybrid attacks? Go for its eyes? Curl up in a ball? Or just pray it all ends quickly?

When it was a meter away, the griffin lowered its body to the floor, getting ready to spring.

The elevator still hadn’t arrived, and Andy wondered what his very last thought would be. That he’d failed Sun? That he blamed himself for getting them into this mess? That it sure hurt like hell being eaten alive by a griffin?

Then the creature squawked again, immediately spinning around and attacking the dinosaur that had locked its jaws onto its back leg.

The elevator opened—blessedly empty—and Andy retreated from the monster wars and told the lift to take him to subbasement 5.

That’s where Sun would be heading. To free Bub.

Andy had no clue how he was going to stop her, but he had to try. If there was even the tiniest bit of humanity left in his wife, he’d find it. She was strong. One of the strongest people he’d ever known. If anyone in the world had the willpower to fight back against the infection that had overtaken her, Sun did.

As the elevator took him deeper into the earth, Andy tried to get his breathing under control and considered the future. If he was able to help Sun, and if they got out of there, and if Bub didn’t destroy the world.

A whole lot of ifs.

If things did work out, he vowed he and Sun would get off the grid. Go somewhere the government couldn’t find them. Hide away in a little podunk town where Sun could be a veterinarian and Andy could teach French or Spanish or something equally banal at the local community college. Change their names. Start a family. Get away from all the death and the monsters and the ever-looming threat of humanity’s annihilation.

When he reached subbasement 5, Andy tensed, but understood he couldn’t brace himself for whatever he was about to face. Maybe it would be crawling with creatures. Maybe Sun was waiting to kill him. Maybe Bub was already freed, ready to take the elevator to the surface and make good on his promise to destroy humanity.

But when the doors opened, the hallway was empty. Andy quickly made his way toward the cell Bub and Lucas shared. Bub hovered in place, eyeing Andy malevolently. Lucas sat in his chair, looking pensive.

“Your lovely wife?” Lucas asked.

“She’s… infected.”

“Aye. Controlled from within, so to speak. In 1518, in Strasbourg, there was a dancing plague. Over four hundred people afflicted and unable to stop dancing. It lasted almost a week, and some literally danced themselves to death. Their disease controlled their actions.”

“Was that Bub?”

“No. Least, I don’t believe it was. Just saying that people, sick people, sometimes aren’t responsible for their actions. Remember that, whatever happens next.”

“Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun.”

Andy twisted around, and saw Sun had come up behind him. She had that toothed, demonic smile on her face, and there was blood on the front of her hospital gown.

“You… you can fight this, Sunshine,” Andy said. “I know you’re in there. You can—”

Sun backhanded Andy, sending him to the floor. Then she placed a key card up to the cell’s LED panel.

“Sun! Don’t!” Andy reached for her leg, and was summarily kicked in the face. Sun quickly punched some keys and the cell door opened.

Then there was a violent crash.

The batling was knocked clean out of the air by a flying net of steel, careening into Sun and sending them both sprawling onto the hallway floor.

The steel mesh fence that had separated Lucas and Bub fell on top of the batling, pinning it underneath. Sun lay to the side, unconscious and bleeding from a gash on her forehead. Andy quickly crawled to her. She had a pulse.

“I hate noisy roommates,” Lucas said, stepping out of his cell and staring down at Bub.

Bub grasped the fence in his clawed hands and threw it back at Lucas, hitting the Manx man in the midsection and knocking him into the cell. It then beelined past Andy, who punched with everything he had as it landed on Sun. A moment later Bub had the key card in its hand, then it turned on Andy, placing its claw on his chest.

“Jooooooooin usssssssssssss, Dennison.”

Andy felt a pinch, then Bub was gone, flying down the hallway. Andy lifted his shirt, saw the puncture mark in his sternum.

I’m infected. Like Sun.

He looked at Lucas, who was sitting against the rear wall of the cell.

“Wee bastard is strong, ain’t he?”

“He… Bub… injected me…”

“He tends to do that.” Lucas got up, seemingly unharmed, and walked up to Andy and Sun. With a punch too fast to see, he clipped Sun under the jaw. She slumped to the floor.

Andrew looked at his wife—the thing that was his wife—and realized he didn’t want to live like that. He’d been willing to do whatever it took to save Sun, but the thought of being a prisoner in his own, demonic body, slavishly serving Bub…

Andy would rather die. And he selfishly dwelled in self-pity for several seconds before saying, “Maybe you should just kill us both.”

“I didn’t peg you as one to give up, Andy. Didn’t you defeat this Bub fella once before?”

“No. I mean, we hurt him, but…”

“How’d ye hurt him?”

“Radiation.”

Lucas nodded. “I can see how that would work.”

“But it didn’t work,” Andy said. “It only slowed him down, but it didn’t kill him.”

“Slowed him down, did it?”

“Killed his cells. Bub has such an advanced physiology that he’s more susceptible to radiation than most life forms.”

“Is that so?”

Andy blinked, a beam of hope cutting through his despair. Was Bub’s mutagen serum also affected? Could a dose of radiation stop the infection in him and Sun?

“There’s an x-ray machine in the infirmary. They also have a PET scanner. Which means a cyclotron, for creating injectable radiopharmaceuticals.”

Andy didn’t know much about medicine, but Sun used a PET scanner at work (which always amused him because she was using a PET scanner to scan pets—irony is funny). It involved an intravenous radioactive tracer. Maybe some combination of internal medicine and external bombardment was worth a try.

“We can give it a go,” Lucas said.

“Okay. But you have to promise me one thing. If I… if I turn into one of those things…”

“Don’t worry, lad.” Lucas patted Andy’s shoulder. “I’ll put an end to your and your wife’s misery.”

“What? No! I changed my mind. I want you to make sure Sun and I are cured. No matter how long it takes. I don’t want to be a martyr.”

Lucas chuckled. “Understood. Truth told, your species always seemed a little too eager to self-sacrifice, if you ask me. Willing to march into death for the greater good. Noble it can be on rare occasions, but other times it’s just bloody stupid.”

“Can you help me with Sun?”

“I can do you one better.” Lucas picked up Sun and slung her over his shoulder as if she weighed nothing. “And we’d better move along. Our demon friend is freeing beasties, and the ones on this level aren’t too friendly.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Dr. Chandelling wanted to get the hell out of there.

The Sun-demon had promised Bub would reattach his ear—which he’d gotten back after overturning Satchmo’s tank and dumping the hungry little fish onto the floor. But if that promise turned out to be a lie, Chandelling needed to see a doctor. Someone with more talent and experience than Gornman.

The problem was, they were on lockdown. Which meant nothing got in, or out, until Kane and his staff of rent-a-thugs got the situation under control. Knowing Kane, that could take hours.

Chandelling didn’t have hours. His ear was on ice, but it wouldn’t keep fresh forever.

“Are you a Shakespeare fan, doc?”

Chandelling was startled by the voice, and he flinched in his hospital bed. He searched the room, but didn’t see anyone.

But… where did that banana on the counter come from?

“I was going to quote Julius Ceaser,” the banana said. “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears. But it seems you already did.”

Shit. Mu. That annoying little multidimensional fruit who made fun of everyone.

“Funny,” Chandelling said. “Now why don’t you leave.”

“Don’t you mean split?” the banana asked.

“Just go away.”

“I’m staying for the show, Doc. You see, someone is dying to meet you.”

That’s when Chandelling noticed a figure shuffle into his room.

Bub? To heal me?

No. It wasn’t the batling.

It was someone who stank like a corpse.

And looked like a corpse.

And walked like a corpse. Well… walked like a walking corpse.

“Braaaaaaains,” the zombie said.

Chandelling screamed, two octaves higher than his normal voice. He immediately leapt out of bed—losing his balance because of the narcotic painkillers he’d insisted be administered—and fell to the floor.

The zombie was on him in three steps, reaching down with its rotten hands and immediately biting Chandelling in the scalp.

“Your brain… smells so good,” the undead abomination growled between bites. “So rich and spicy…”

Chandelling screamed, trying to force the creature away, but it continued to gnaw, tearing back the skin until its rotting teeth were scraping against his exposed skull.

“What’s eating you, Doc?” Mu asked.

For a dead man, the zombie was amazingly powerful, and there was a disgusting CRACK! followed by a most disturbing slurping sound.

“Something on your mind, Doc?” Mu said.

I can’t let this goddamn thing eat my brain!

Chandelling fought with all he had, but he was pinned to the floor, and the zombie’s fingers probed the hole it had made in his skull, trying to make it larger. Which it did, breaking the skull in half.

“Talk about a splitting headache,” Mu said.

The zombie began to chomp, slurping up Chandelling’s gray matter.

Dr. Chandelling’s last thought—

—was devoured.

Chapter Thirty

Jerry stared down the barrels of six guns, one of them belonging to Rimmer. The boy immediately raised his hands over his head. The imps repeated the gesture.

“Hold your fire,” Rimmer said, scowling. He had that scowl down to a science. Jerry bet the mercenary could curdle milk with it.

“Monsters! Behind him!” Handler adjusted his aim, pointing his weapon at one of the imps.

“They ain’t monsters,” Jerry said. “They’re like Smurfs. Only uglier.”

Rimmer’s scowl deepened, something Jeremy didn’t think was possible. “You let them out?”

“They were already out. But they saved me from the unicorn.”

“They saved you from a unicorn?”

“I know. It sounds lame. But they did. They’re on our side.”

“Prove it.”

Without hesitation, Jerry got down on one knee and opened up his arms. “C’mere, little guy. I won’t hurt you.” He reached for one of the imps, who didn’t back away or struggle as Jerry picked it up. The creature was cool to the touch, and somewhat clammy, but it was docile.

“See? It’s not spitting acid in my face, or trying to tear out my throat. It’s one of the good guys.”

Rimmer lowered his rifle. The other soldiers did the same.

“You’re in trouble, kid,” Rimmer said.

“We’re all in trouble. The imps and the unicorn are out. What else has gotten free in this crazy little zoo of yours?”

Rimmer didn’t answer. Which itself was an answer.

“Everything?” Jerry asked, his eyes getting wide. “Everything is free?”

Rimmer checked his pager, then gave his men a hand motion. They followed him into the elevator, surrounding Jerry with buff testosterone.

“Subbasement 5,” Rimmer said.

“Wait! I’m not going back down there.” Jerry made a try for the door, but Rimmer clapped a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“You had a chance to be locked in a nice, safe cell. You chose otherwise.”

“I changed my mind. A cell sounds absolutely fabulous right now.”

The lift doors closed, and Jerry felt his sphincter clench as the elevator began to descend.

“I’ll have you know you’re endangering the life of a minor,” Jerry said. “I’m young and defenceless.”

“Have you fired a gun before?” Rimmer asked.

“A real one? I’m from the UK, you nutter. Our cops don’t even carry guns. Why? You gonna lend me yours?”

“Hell, no. But if my men and I get killed, feel free to pick up one of ours and try your best.” Rimmer held up his rifle. “This is a Kriss Vector carbine. It’s forty-five caliber and uses Glock 21 magazines with sleeve extenders, so the mags are interchangeable with our sidearms.”

Rimmer showed him the button on the side of the complicated-looking rifle to release the magazine. Then he shoved it back in and pulled a lever off the side. “This is the charging handle. You pull it out, put your thumb on the bolt hold, and rack it back. Take off the safety here, and you’re ready to fire. When you fire the last shot, the bolt will stay back. Pull the release to load your next mag. Got all that?”

“No. But this reminds me of the scene in Aliens where Hicks teaches Ripley how to shoot the pulse rifle.”

Rimmer raised an eyebrow. “You watch too many movies.”

“Which is probably why I’m not freaking out right now. I’ve been desensitized to seeing monsters on the loose. Show me again. I’ll get it.”

Rimmer pressed the button to drop the magazine, then reloaded.

“Do I need to rack it again?” Jerry asked.

“No, because I didn’t fire. Bullet is still in the chamber. See?”

This time, when Rimmer pulled the charging handle, a bullet popped out the side ejector port. One of the imps grabbed it, offering the treasure up to Jerry.

Jerry took the bullet, squinting at it. “Does this explode when it hits a target?”

“No.”

“Spray cyanide?”

“No.”

“So what does it do?”

The doors opened, and one of the giant harvestmen spiders stuck one of its clawed legs into the hallway. Rimmer bore down on it and pulled the trigger, turning it into a gory mess of arachnid parts.

“It kills things,” Rimmer answered, popping in another magazine.

“I think I just shit myself.” Jerry’s eardrums felt like he’d just endured a four hour Metallica concert, front row.

The spider’s cellmate was clinging to the wall, approaching quickly. Apparently, guns didn’t frighten the creature.

Handler took point and fired, but the spider leapt onto the ceiling with incredible speed, avoiding the burst. A millisecond later it dropped on Handler’s shoulders.

No one fired—they obviously didn’t want to risk shooting Handler—and the spider’s mandibles opened and it bit the man on the neck.

Handler dropped to his knees, screaming. A gout of blood exploded from his mouth and his eyes swelled in their sockets. Slowly the guard’s torso expanded, blowing up like a balloon. Then he split open at the ribs and a thick white substance spilt forth from his carcass.

Rimmer strode forward and fired his newly reloaded rifle, aiming point blank. He emptied an entire magazine into the spider, forcing it off of Handler and shredding it to bits.

“Jesus,” one of Rimmer’s men said, kneeling down to examine Handler, who was deader than dead. “That was—”

Before the guard could finish, something pounced on him. Something man-shaped, with claws and shark-like teeth.

One of those nosferatu dracula-things.

It bit a big hunk out of his neck, then leapt into the elevator, jaws snapping and talons flailing.

Panic ensued.

There was gunfire and yelling and snarling. Jerry raced down the hallway, head lowered in a crouch, cradling the one imp like a rugby ball while its family chased behind. He ducked past another dracula-thing, narrowly avoiding its swiping claws,

“Keep going!” Rimmer yelled from behind them. It was followed by the burp of his machinegun, and a terrible screech that Jerry guessed came from one of the draculas.

Then Jerry stopped abruptly, skidding on his feet and almost falling onto his arse, because blocking the hallway was—

Is that a goddamned yeti?

The beast stood almost three meters high, covered with scraggly white fur. Like someone crossed a polar bear with a gorilla. It had a pungent, musky odor. Jerry wondered if, like the imps, it was friendly. Then the thing roared, opening a maw filled with dozens of teeth, thin and long as nails, but opaque as icicles.

“In the cell!” Rimmer shouted. “Now!”

Without thinking, Jerry ran into the first open and empty cell he saw, to his right, and quickly spun around. Rimmer hit some buttons on the LED and then slipped in before the door closed.

Both men caught their breath, and then Jerry looked through the Plexiglas cell door and watched two draculas dart past.

“Your men?” Jerry asked.

“I think West got away in the elevator.”

“The others?”

Rimmer gave a small shake of his head.

Down the hallway, the draculas screeched and the yeti roared. Jerry approached cautiously, and peered at the ensuing battle. The yeti swung out with its arms, keeping the draculas at a distance.

“Can they get in here?” Jerry asked.

“Only if they have a key and the code. Cell is solid.”

“Can we get out?”

Rimmer didn’t answer.

“We can’t get out?”

“I have my pager. I can text someone.”

“Who?”

Rimmer blew out a stiff breath. “Whoever is left.”

Chapter Thirty-One

Dr. Gornman sat in her lab and stared at the computer screen, flipping from security camera to security camera. All of her lab assistants had fled. A few had made it to the surface. Most had gone back to their rooms first, for their belongings. A big mistake, as many were slaughtered or eaten. Gornman lost count of all the creepy things crawling the halls, but some stand-outs included a horse-sized six-legged chameleon called a basilisk, a fanged bull the staff sarcastically called the mad cow, and a giant, two-headed cobra, which fought with itself over which mouth got to devour Gornman’s secretary, Henrietta. The left head won, and Henrietta was now a lump in the snake’s midsection.

It was all so very terrible.

And so wonderfully cathartic.

In some cases, she’d listened to her co-workers complaints, pathetic fears, and boring dreams for years and years. Too many psychiatric sessions to count, and Gornman was convinced that all but a few employees deserved the fate they received. Casterov, a tech-head, had been lamely hitting on Gornman since she’d first arrived at the Spiral, using his sessions to make lewd proposals. When an ostrichgator bit off his junk, Gornman actually laughed. And Ramish, an analyst, who had an almost Freudian obsession with fondling the gold necklace her grandmother had given her, was disembowelled by a chupacabra, her intestines looped around her own neck. Could it be more poetically ironic than that?

Gornman thought about all the time she’d wasted here, how her substantial talents had been almost criminally underutilized. Kane had finally dangled the carrot of leadership in front of her after a decade of zero appreciation and mistreatment, but it had been too little too late. Ruling the world at Bub’s side was infinitely preferable to commanding this petty little fiefdom. Gornman didn’t regret her actions.

Hell, she relished them.

Her only regret was coming to the Spiral in the first place.

After losing her mother—her only surviving relative—to cancer, Gornman had been intent on becoming a medical researcher. She longed to add her name alongside Pasteur and Jenner, and other great minds who had improved the health of the entire world. She wanted to make sure that no other young girls lost their mothers like she did.

Then she was hit by a truck. Literally.

The driver had been drunk. He’d hopped the curb and plowed into her at a bus stop while she’d been sitting on the bench, studying for her finals.

She spent over two years in the hospital, in near constant pain.

For the first year she didn’t have a single visitor. Her family was all dead, and her studies always pushed away any friendships, Gornman reached a depth of despair that made her consider suicide more than once. Between the excruciatingly painful rehab and the debilitating loneliness, she switched her major in college to psychiatry to try and figure herself out. And she did.

The reason she couldn’t connect to other people was because they were all beneath her. Intellectually. Emotionally. Spiritually.

Deus Manus had reached out to her in the hospital a year into her rehab. They’d been watching her progress for a while, impressed by her medical acumen and her strong will. Their job offer—good money and benefits in a secluded hole in the ground—was perfect. Gornman would only have to treat a few dozen people, at most, and she wouldn’t have to go out into the real world to deal with reality. She readily accepted their offer to join.

Three years later, she completed medical school. A day after that, a black SUV pulled up outside her dorm and took her away. She had been at the Spiral ever since.

And now it looks like I finally have my chance to shine.

All Gornman needed was for Bub to find her before one of those creatures did.

She switched cameras on her monitor, watching as—was that Tyler from Human Resources?—get excoriated by a giant, four-tailed scorpion.

That’s when the alarm went off.

Not the general alarm. That had rung when the Sun-demon escaped the infirmary.

This was the evacuation alarm. Protocol Omega. The one that warned the Spiral’s workers that they had half an hour to get the hell out, before the entire facility filled up with quick-setting concrete.

Kane.

That idiot General was going to bury them all. Gornman hadn’t thought he had the guts to do it. But then, he was probably abandoning ship.

She had to stop him before that asshole saved the human race.

Chapter Thirty-Two

General Kane cleared his throat and tried to steady his voice when he spoke into the microphone.

“Protocol Omega has been initiated. Repeat, Protocol Omega has been initiated. You have thirty minutes to evacuate the Spiral.” The General blew out a deep breath. “May God help us all.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Protocol Omega?” Andy said to Lucas as they stood in the elevator. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“I’ve yet to see anything in this place that’s good,” Lucas answered. Sun, still unconscious, was still slung effortlessly over his shoulder.

“That reminds me. There might be a dinosaur on this floor.”

“Will wonders never cease?”

“And a griffon,” Andy said.

“Head of an eagle, hindquarters of a lion?”

“That’s the one.”

“Never seen a griffon. What’s it like?”

“Terrifying. There also might be a giant centipede.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Andy shook his head. “What kind of idiots would collect the most dangerous monsters on earth and put them all in one place?”

“The church,” Lucas said. “Poor decisions seem to be part of their long-term plan. I remember back when this whole Deus Manus concept was conceived. A wee bit ill-advised, I’d said at the time. Too many dark things in one place is like spitting in fate’s eye.”

Andy glanced at his companion. “How old did you say you were?”

“I didn’t.” Lucas smiled pleasantly. “But I’ve been around long enough to have seen a great many things.”

“So I’m probably being paranoid thinking this might be the end of the world.”

“The world will go on. As for humanity… well, it isn’t looking too good right now. Always was a pride issue with you people. Thinking you can control everything. I’m no stranger to pride myself. Being confident in your abilities is one thing. Getting cocky is another. When I strolled into this fine establishment last week and saw all the techno-widgets and electronic computer gizmos, I knew it was trouble. Too much reliance on your own fabrications. Could have predicted it even if I hadn’t known it was going to happen.”

“And how did you know it was going to happen?”

“That’s one of my blessings. Or curses, depending on your definition. I get to know in advance all of the terrible things humanity does to itself. The lord has given me a front row seat, in a manner of speaking.”

Andy wanted to broach the subject of the pictures of Lucas he’d seen, where the Manx man was in the company of genocidal leaders. Could that be Lucas’s agenda here? To assist in wiping out a lot of people?

He hoped not. Especially since Lucas had Andy’s wife on his shoulder. So he didn’t mention the photos. But still, he was curious.

Andy chose his words carefully. “If you know about bad things about to happen, why don’t you interfere and stop them?”

“It isn’t my place. Sure, I’ve done my bit here and there. But you people chose free will. It’s not my place to mess with your destiny.”

Sun began to stir on Lucas’s shoulder, and he reached up and gripped her neck. Her eyelids fluttered and closed again.

“What did you just do?” Andy said, unsure if he was more alarmed at Lucas having possibly hurt Sun, or her waking up and going apeshit again.

“Carotid artery. Gave it a squeeze, cut off the blood flow from the heart to the brain. It’s not a long term solution,” Lucas said, his eyes crinkling, “but it works in a pinch.”

They reached the infirmary floor, level 3, and the doors opened. Andy braced himself, but nothing leapt out at them. The hallway was empty, albeit blood-spattered.

“This way,” Andy said, moving cautiously. He led Lucas toward the x-ray room, which was around the corner and several doors down. As he approached the bend, he motioned for Lucas to wait and flattened himself against the wall, craning his neck to peek.

Blocking the x-ray door was a giant scorpion with multiple tails, each ending in a huge stinger. Andy felt his stomach plummet. At first he thought it was fear. But it was accompanied by a whole-body sensation, like there were ants crawling under his skin.

Bub’s mutagen.

It was reprogramming Andy’s DNA to turn him into a demon, like Sun. It hadn’t happened this quickly with her, and Andy could only assume that was because he’d gotten a bigger dose.

“You feeling okay, fella?”

“There’s a four-tailed scorpion the size of a Buick in the hallway, blocking the x-ray room, and I think my cells are mutating.”

“That’s unfortunate. What do you want to do?”

“Sit in a corner and cry.” It was as true a statement as Andy had ever spoken. “I’m not the hero type, Lucas. I’m not brave. I’m not courageous. I’m a nerd who likes languages. This was supposed to be my honeymoon. Now my wife is a demon, I’m becoming one as well, we’re surrounded by monsters, and it’s Protocol Omega, which I somehow doubt is an ice cream party.”

“Ahh, ice cream. That’s a plus.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your species. You have a terrific capacity for effing things up. For hurting one another. For making the world a worse place. But then you invent something like ice cream. That makes up for a lot. Makes you worth rooting for.”

Andy sighed. He didn’t need any of Lucas’s non-sequitors thinly disguised as insight. What he needed was to get past the giant scorpion and into the x-ray room.

“Now despair,” Lucas continued. “That’s the opposite of ice cream, isn’t it? Doom and gloom and woe is me. To turn away from all that is good in life to dwell on the bad.”

“Are you trying to tell me something, or are you just rambling?”

“Do you believe in fate, Andrew?”

“No.”

“What if I told you that fate was a future you didn’t work hard enough to change?”

“I’d tell you that no one would ever hire you as a motivational speaker.”

“Four tailed scorpion, is it? What’s the worst that can happen if you face it?”

“It stings me, then eats me.”

“And if you don’t?”

“I mutate into one of Bub’s slaves.”

“So pick your poison, lad. The fate of humanity depends on it, and your wife is getting a wee bit heavy.”

“What does that have to do with ice cream?”

“Nothing.”

Andy looked around for a weapon, his eyes gravitating toward a turned-over medical cart. Scattered across the floor was various first aid equipment.

“Do you have a lighter?” Andy asked Lucas, knowing the answer would be no.

Surprisingly, Lucas reached into his pocket and threw Andy a matchbook. It had a red cover with the words THE TRUMPET printed on it.

“Got it from a pub when the world ended,” Lucas said. “Long story.”

Andy opened the book and saw a single match remained. He set the book on the floor, found some latex gloves, and put on two of them. He stuffed a third with petroleum jelly and cotton balls, squishing them together, and topping it off with a few splashes of rubbing alcohol. Then he spilled more rubbing alcohol onto the tile floor and picked up the matchbook.

“Fingers crossed,” he said.

Andy held his breath and struck the match, dropping it onto the spill. It ignited the tile floor, and he quickly dunked his loaded latex glove in the flame, setting it ablaze and then turning the corner to face the scorpion.

The creature immediately noticed Andy and began to race toward him. Andy swung the glove and tossed it directly at the scorpion’s six eyes.

The homemade napalm splashed against the scorpion, the flames sticking to it like glue. The creature tried to put the fire out with its tails, flailing wildly and giving itself multiple stings in the thorax.

“Evolution didn’t bless that one with much of a brain,” Lucas said.

“C’mon!” Andy yelled, leading Lucas past the burning arachnid and into the x-ray room, his relief short-lived when he discovered what was waiting for them inside.

Achillobator.

They’d run into a room containing a man-eating dinosaur.

Chapter Thirty-Four

“What’s Protocol Omega?” Jerry asked Rimmer, after hearing General Kane say it on the loudspeaker.

“They’re evacuating.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

Rimmer set the timer on his watch. “In less than thirty minutes the Spiral is going to fill up with quick-setting concrete.”

Jerry made a face. “I don’t want to be stuck in concrete until I starve to death. That sounds terrible.”

“Then consider yourself lucky,” Rimmer said. “Because you’ll suck it into your lungs and drown long before that happens.”

Something dashed past the cell door, making Jerry stake a startled step backward. Then he crept forward, cautiously, and put his cheek against the Plexiglas to peer down the hallway.

The yeti was being attacked by two of those dracula things. It swung a mighty claw and lopped off one of their heads, but the other jumped onto its back and began biting and slashing. Then another dracula ran past and joined the fray, but it was—

“That monster is wearing one of your commando uniforms.”

Rimmer came up and looked for himself. “It’s Gordon. He’s turned into one of those creatures.”

“Can this get any bloody worse?’ Jerry asked, shaking his head and walking deeper into the cell, parking his butt on a large pile of hay. This seemed to agitate the imps, because they began to hop up and down, squealing and clicking.

“What’s your problem?” Jerry asked them.

That’s when he noticed the hay beneath him begin to squirm. He immediately scrambled away, and saw he’d sat upon some sort of round, grayish object roughly half a meter in width.

It looked like—

“An egg,” Jerry said.

His guess was confirmed a moment later, when spiders began to pour out of it.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Kane sent another load of office workers up to the surface in the elevator and waited for it to come back down. A helicopter was en route to airlift everybody down to Albuquerque. As the head of the facility, Kane would not leave until the very last moment. He checked his watch: only twenty-six minutes left.

It was regrettable that not everyone could be evacuated. The fact that Sergeant Rimmer and a majority of the staff on other levels were beyond rescue was upsetting, but there was no viable way to help them. The risk was too great. Everyone at the Spiral knew that their lives would be deemed expendable should the worst happen. And the worst was certainly happening.

The elevator returned to the floor and Kane sent another load of people inside. “As soon as you exit the facility,” he told them, “remain in the clearing and await extraction.”

A security guard came up beside Kane. “I’ve swept the floor and checked in with Conway and Hartfield on levels 3 and 4. They have another twenty ready to go as soon as the elevator is free.”

Kane glanced around at the panicked faces in the Nucleus. “How many left on this floor?”

“A dozen. One more load after this one and we should be fully evacuated on this floor.”

Kane nodded. “Then I will relocate to level 4 and work on getting everybody out of there next.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll let Conway know.”

Kane watched the last people pile into the elevator and waited for the doors to close.

Yet they remained open.

Kane strode over to them. He glanced at the employees inside. “Has anyone commanded the elevator to stay open?

People shook their heads.

Kane huffed. “Doors close… Doors close… Surface level.”

The doors remained open.

Kane grabbed a hold of one of the doors and yanked, but it held in place firmly.

Kane raised his voice into a shout. “ELEVATOR CLOSE DOORS NOW.”

The elevator did nothing.

Kane grabbed his nearest man, a tall security guard with a fuzzy blonde moustache. “Linden, run a diagnostic on the elevator. Why aren’t the doors closing?”

Linden ran over to the nearest computer station and began typing away. After a few moments, his brow wrinkled in confusion and he glanced at Kane uncertainly.

“What is it?” Kane demanded.

“The elevator has been placed into maintenance mode. All functions are on hold until it’s released.”

“Then release it.”

“I can’t, sir. The access to the elevator’s commands has been locked. I can’t get into the menus.”

Kane marched over to the computer. “Stand aside.” He typed in his own login details and went into the elevator’s control systems. As soon as he tried to enter the base menus he was met with the message: ACCESS DENIED. FULL SYSTEM LOCK DOWN INITIATED. CONSULT ADMINISTRATOR.

Kane thumped his fist down on the keyboard, dislodging the Ctrl chiclet. “I am the administrator, you son of a bitch.”

“Let me try something, sir.” The security guard logged back into the system and ran a few commands. After a moment he straightened up from the keyboard and once again creased his brow in confusion. “It seems that Dr. Gornman initiated the lock down. She’s reset access privileges so that no one can override her commands.”

“How could she do that?”

The security guard shrugged. “I don’t know.”

The realization hit Kane like a slap to the face. He thought back to when the elevators were installed, and remembered giving Gornman administrative privileges to them during a counselling session. She’d expressed concern that if anything happened to Kane, the elevators could trap those who worked at the Spiral. He’d shared the operation control to make sure they’d function if there was an emergency and he became incapacitated.

But instead, Dr. Gornman had used that knowledge to shut the elevators off.

Kane shook his head and gritted his teeth. “What the hell is that woman doing? She’s going to kill us all.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Dr. Gornman stared at the monitor, drinking in Kane’s anguished expression.

“Who’s in charge now, General?”

The idiot would have no choice. He’d have to revoke Protocol Omega, or else kill himself and everyone in the Spiral.

Gornman watched him go to the nearest hallway phone, and she picked up when he called.

“We’re evacuating,” Kane said. “What did you do to the elevators?”

“I shut them down.”

“For God’s sake, why?”

Gornman had been waiting a very long time to tell Kane what she thought of him. Of his rules. Of the Spiral. Of the entirety of Deus Manus. But instead of launching into a well-deserved scolding, she played it safe. Just in case things didn’t turn out as she hoped.

“There are monsters everywhere, General. We can’t risk one of them escaping.”

“I’m in charge here, Doctor. I make that call.”

Gornman pushed the martyr card. “The danger is too great.”

“In twenty-four minutes this facility is going to fill up with cement. Do you want to be here when that happens?”

“Rimmer and his men can still contain the problem. You’re awfully eager to destroy a multi-billion dollar facility.”

“It’s my decision, Dr. Gornman. I order you to start the elevators.”

“I can’t do that, General. Revoke Protocol Omega.”

What Kane said next shocked her. “No.”

For a moment, Gornman actually admired the old bastard. He had a heroic streak after all.

But she knew him too well. This was like a game of chicken, two cars speeding at each other. He’d break first.

“So be it,” Gornman said. “Then they can drop a giant tombstone on the Spiral, with all the names of the people you’ve killed.”

Gornman hung up the phone, then put the ringer on silent.

Kane would break first. She was sure of it.

He had to.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

“We’re in trouble,” Jerry said.

“You think?” Rimmer asked, still peering through the Plexiglas.

“More than that. Look.”

Rimmer turned and stared at the giant egg buried in the hay, dozens of spiders crawling out if it. Each was larger than a tarantula.

“Why are you waiting? Shoot them!”

“We’re in a steel cell, Jerry.”

“So?”

“Bullets ricochet. We’ll cut ourselves to pieces.”

As Jerry backed away, Rimmer advanced on the spider eruption, stomping and swearing. The imps followed suit, scrambling after the arachnids and tearing their legs off. For every one they killed, three more came out of the egg.

Jerry remembered what happened to Handler when he was bitten by a spider; the bloke damn near exploded from the venom. Not a good way to go.

But there didn’t seem to be any good ways to go in the Spiral. One death was worse than the next.

Jerry joined the attack, stepping on the horde as fast as he could. The arachnids crunched under his feet like cellophane bags, farting out guts as they squished. It was disgusting, and scary as anything he’d ever done before, but the spiders weren’t fighting back, or even trying to get away. Maybe they were too young to know any better.

“I really screwed up my life these past few months,” Jerry blurted over the noise of the assault.

Rimmer laughed. “Really? You pick now to start talking about personal shit?”

“I might not get another chance to talk about it.” Jerry stomped on a particularly large spiderling, which popped with the sound of a balloon. “I’ve got things I’ll never be able to make right.”

Rimmer glanced at him but continued to step on spiders. “The person you stole from in the UK?”

“No, fuck him. I have a brother. I messed things up with him. I would have liked to have said sorry.”

“You may get a chance yet. Take it from someone who has faced certain death before and lived to tell the tale. Sometimes the heat of the moment stops us looking forward.”

“So you think we’ll get out of this alive?”

Rimmer shook his head. “No.”

Jerry winced. “Well, what the bloody hell then?”

“Doesn’t mean we’re going to stop trying. Worst thing a man can do is lie down and accept death. God gave us life. It’s our duty to preserve it.”

“You believe in all that? I mean, you’ve killed people before and you guard a prison full of monsters. You still think there’s a God?”

“Absolutely.” He pulled out a tactical knife and shish-kabobbed a spider climbing the cell wall. “I just think that God has his hands a little fuller than we would believe. As much as I believe in Him, I also believe that there’re evil forces that work against Him.”

“Like Bub? Are you saying he’s the devil?”

“People like to question God for letting bad things happen. Doesn’t it make more sense that it’s because he isn’t in total control. I’ve always believed that God does what he can but that there are forces which seek to bring him down. Forces like Bub. Seeing the abominations in this prison has only increased my belief of that.”

“But God is God, right? All powerful, almighty. Couldn’t he just put an end to this bullshit?”

“They say the Lord works in mysterious ways.”

“Bullshit. God doesn’t need us to make excuses for him. If he exists, he’s letting all this happen. And that sucks.”

There was a high-pitched squeal, and Jerry followed the sound and saw that one of the imps was on the floor, clutching its belly.

“A spider must have bit him!”

Jerry hurried over and scooped the sick creature up. Sure enough there was a red welt on its stomach, clear poison leaking out.

“What do I do?” he asked. The other imps had gathered around, hopping up and down to see their fallen family member.

“I’d say suck it out,” Rimmer said, “but with those things it’s probably a bad—”

Jerry immediately latched his lips onto the imp’s wound and began to draw out the venom. His mouth filled with a foul, bitter liquid. He spat it over his shoulder.

“Jerry, you could poison yourself. You shouldn’t—”

Again he ignored Rimmer, going back for a second try, sucking out as much as he could.

The little imp in his hands shivered, but it opened its eyes.

“Give me your bandana,” Jerry said, indicating the one around Rimmer’s neck. The soldier handed it over. Jerry put the imp in a makeshift sling and tied it to his belt loop.

“Rinse with this.” Rimmer offered Jerry a silver flask. The boy unscrewed the top and took a pull, his mouth filling with the burn of alcohol. “Now spit.”

Jerry obeyed. “What is that? Whiskey?”

“Pappy Van Winkle 23 year old,” Rimmer said, taking the flask back and indulging in a swig.

“It’s really good.”

“I know.”

“Can I have more? You made me spit mine out.”

Rimmer offered the flask and Jerry took a healthy sip. It burned going down in a wonderful way.

“Now keep stomping spiders,” Rimmer said. “There’re still a lot.”

Just as Jerry did so, he heard a female voice. “Jerry, are you okay?”

It was Nessie. Coming from the hallway intercom.

“We’re trapped in here,” Jerry said up at the cell’s camera.

“I can’t hear you, Jerry,” Nessie replied. “You need to get on the intercom to respond. Are you okay?”

Jerry wasn’t sure how to answer that, so he shrugged his shoulders.

“Are you trapped in there?”

He nodded several times.

“I’ve tried contacting other guards. The elevators are on override. No one can get out of the Spiral, and no one can get down to you.”

“Elevators overridden?” Rimmer scowled. “What the hell does Kane think he’s doing?”

Jerry pointed at the camera and said in an exaggerated fashion. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” Nessie said, apparently able to read his lips. “I’m still in the library on the same level as you, subbasement 5. I locked the doors. But so many others… it’s… it’s a massacre, Jerry. Monsters are everywhere. I—”

There was a clanging noise, and her voice cut off.

“Nessie? Nessie!”

She didn’t reply.

“Think she’s okay?” Jerry asked, turning to Rimmer.

“Worry about her later,” Rimmer said, pointing.

Another egg, partially buried in the hay, began to open, spewing spiders into the cell. As fast as they could stomp them, more appeared. And worse, they’d gone on the offensive, climbing the walls and ceiling and leaping at Jerry, several of them landing on him at once.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Gwen Nestor knew she was a nerd ever since she was eight years old. When her friends were playing with fashion dolls, she asked her parents for books about mythology. Zeus and Hera were infinitely more interesting to Nessie than Ken and Barbie.

In high school, while peers were spending time with Facebook, Nessie preferred real books. She studied ancient religions at Georgetown in DC primarily to be near the Library of Congress. Thirty-four million tomes, many of them unopened for decades. The ultimate research facility.

When Deus Manus snatched her up out of college, Nessie geeked out. So many of the myths she’d been studying turned out to be based in fact, and the Spiral had the creatures to prove it. Plus she had access to rare books. Forbidden books. Secret books that revealed a history of the world only a select few knew about.

Nerd heaven.

At least it was, until the creatures all got out and started killing everybody. The Pandora’s Box parable sprang immediately to mind.

Which is why, when something crashed against the library door, Nessie immediately abandoned her intercom call with Jerry and hid behind a massive bookcase full of illuminated manuscripts printed on vellum.

She held her breath, listening, her heart beating so loudly she could hear it.

Thirty seconds passed.

A minute.

CLANG!

She jumped back, startled, as something hit the door again. Something very big, by the sound of it.

Her movement made the bookcase shake, and an uncut version of the Codex Gigas—the longest antique manuscript ever penned—fell at her feet. The eight hundred year old book landed on its wooden spine and opened, ironically, to a grinning illustration of the devil.

Could it be Bub outside the library?

One of those dracula things?

Something even worse?

Nessie didn’t want to wait around to find out, but she had no place to go. The library only had one entrance. The Spiral wasn’t subject to local fire codes, and there was no emergency exit. No way to escape. One way in, one way out.

She stared down at the illustration again, and something compelled her to turn the page. When she did, Nessie realized what Bub’s plan was.

CLANG!

Nessie jumped, peering around the bookcase to see the door was off its hinges, catching sight of something dark and massive as it darted inside and disappeared into the ranks and files of books.

Oh my god. I’m dead.

She didn’t want to die without letting others know what Bub had in store. So against every contrary fiber in her being, Nessie reached for the Codex Gigas—

—and tore out a page.

It was an irredeemable act of vandalism on one of the rarest, most important books in the history of the world. But if she was killed—and that was seeming more and more likely—maybe the page would be found on her body and serve as a warning to others.

Nessie folded up the vellum and stuck it into her jeans pocket. Then she willed her legs to move, and managed to run two steps before something pounced on her, pinning Nessie to the floor, fangs and hot breath on the back of her neck.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The achillobator’s throat and breast feathers were dripping with blood, as were its fangs. It stood between Andy and the x-ray machine, swaying slightly on muscled legs. The dinosaur’s head jerked in Andy’s direction, cocked to the side like a bird, and its black eyes blinked.

“That’s the ugliest chicken I’ve ever seen,” Lucas said.

Andy clenched so he didn’t wet his pants, and without moving his body he forced his eyes off the creature, scanning the room for a weapon.

There was a stool, a desk with a computer, and—

Andy doubled over in agony, his vision going red. He dropped to his knees and held out his hands, watching as claws extended from his fingertips.

NO! Not now! We were so close!

He turned, looking back at Sun, still unconscious on Lucas’s shoulder.

I’m sorry, my love. I did my best, and I failed. I’m so very—

And then his mind succumbed, and the man who was once Andy wasn’t Andy anymore.

Weeeeeeee are leeeeegion.

Weeeee… musssssssst… KILL!

The demon Andy had become rose to its full height and snarled, focusing on its enemy. An enemy it had known for millennia.

“Luuuucaaaaasssssssssss,” the Andy-demon hissed.

Then the demon pounced, fangs bared and claws outstretched.

Chapter Forty

Jerry began to beat on his arms and chest, but for every spider he knocked off his body, two more jumped onto him.

The imps tried to help, climbing the boy’s legs and pulling off all the spiders as fast as they could, but Jerry knew it was no use. Any moment he’d be bitten and—

WHAM!

The kick connected squarely with Jerry’s chest, knocking him off his feet and into the Plexiglas cell door. Jerry fell onto his arse, trying to get his wind back.

Rimmer.

Why in the hell would he…?

Then Jerry realized he was free of spiders. Rimmer’s fast kick had knocked them all free.

Jerry checked the bandana on his belt loop, making sure he hadn’t sat on the imp who’d been bitten. The creature was still safely tucked away. Then he stood up and saw Rimmer had his tactical knife in one hand, his asp baton in the other, stomping and slashing and whacking spiders left and right. It was a sight to behold, like Taz on Bugs Bunny, swirling around and forging a path of destruction.

The spider assault began to abate as their numbers dwindled, and as Jerry gasped for air he watched Rimmer and the imps track down the last few dozen and destroy them.

“Any more eggs?” Jerry managed to squeak out, his ribs feeling like he’d been stomped by an elephant.

Rimmer kicked through hay piles. “Just those two. Goddamn Kane was supposed to make sure these things didn’t breed.”

“Nature found a way,” Jerry said, quoting from Jurassic Park.

The imps, now that the battle had ended, gathered around Jerry. They nuzzled against him like kittens. He patted one on its clammy head and it chirped.

“How long before this place fills with concrete?” he asked Rimmer.

The soldier checked his watch. “Eighteen minutes.”

He sat down next to Jerry, his breathing labored. Neither spoke for a minute or two.

Jerry didn’t want to die drowning in cement. He didn’t want to die at all. Which was strange, because his whole life he’d never really had anything to live for. Always an outcast. Always made fun of by everyone, except his buddy Ben. He never even had a girlfriend. His only obsession had been finding the truths behind conspiracies, because his reality was so empty.

More than once, he’d flirted with the idea of jumping off a bridge. Never to the point where he attempted it. But when he was feeling low, having a pity party, he wondered if life was worth it, and lamented how when he was gone, no one would miss him.

His thoughts, strangely, turned to Nessie.

“I hope she’s okay.”

Rimmer glanced at him. “You like her.”

“She was nice to me. Well, seemed to like me. That’s pretty rare.”

“Seems to me you set out to make people not like you.”

Jerry shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know why I do it. I’m just kind of an obnoxious dork.”

“No, you’re not. You act like an obnoxious dork so that people dislike you. You don’t like yourself, and that reaffirms your beliefs. So you make sure that nobody gets a chance to get close. Textbook single-parent upbringing. You feel rejected by your father and you developed natural defences against being rejected by anyone else.”

Jerry made a face. “I didn’t realise you had a side-gig as a psychiatrist. How you know so much about me anyway?”

“I pulled up your file when you arrived. British government only lists a mother for you, no father.”

“And you think you know me because of that?”

Rimmer twiddled with his beard. “No, I think that because I know myself. I didn’t have a father either. Drifted through life, acting like an asshole, getting in fights, pushing people away. I joined the army just to separate myself from society.”

“So that’s why you’re such a hardass, then?”

“Nope, I’m a hardass because it’s my job to be. If I’m not, people die. I came to terms with who I am a long time ago. It comes with time and experience. Back when I was your age, though, I was pretty screwed up.”

Jerry nodded and spoke quietly. “Are you trying to say I should cheer up, that things will be better in the future? Because I’ve heard all that shit before.”

“I’m no fortune teller. I don’t have a clue what’s going to happen to you in the future. There may not even be a future, if Kane doesn’t stop Protocol Omega. But I’ve seen you show courage. And compassion, with Wolfie and the imps. And now affection, for Nessie. There’s more to you than a self-loathing, wise-cracking limey.”

Jerry laughed. “Thanks. Guess you’re not the wanker I thought you were, either.”

Jerry was still smiling when there was a thud against the cell door. Both men turned and looked up.

“What the hell?” Jerry said.

A man stood at the glass hatch, bleeding face pressed up against it. The blood was from his cheeks, shredded to strips to allow for the shark teeth that had grown in.

It was Faulks, one of Rimmer’s men. He’d been turned into one of those dracula things.

“Think it can get in?”

As soon as the words left Jerry’s mouth, Faulks began to type on the LED screen.

“I don’t know,” Rimmer said, getting onto one knee and bringing his carbine to bear. “Get behind me.”

Jerry and the imps got behind Rimmer as the creature pressed buttons.

“We can kill it, right? You have enough ammo?”

Rimmer didn’t answer. Instead he turned to the side and threw up.

Jerry touched his leg. “Rimmer, are you okay?”

“Spider bite.”

“Spider bite? Why didn’t you tell me! I could have sucked out the poison!”

“Maybe one or two, you could have,” Rimmer said. “I got bitten at least a dozen times.”

“Jesus!”

Rimmer reached back for his side holster and tugged out the Glock. He handed it, butt-first, to Jerry.

Jerry hesitated.

“Take it, kid.”

“I… I don’t think I can kill you, Rimmer.”

Rimmer barked a laugh. “I don’t think you can kill me either, dumb ass. Shoot at the monsters when they get in the cell.”

Jerry took the gun in his sweaty hands.

“Extra mags in the pouch on my belt. When you’re empty, the slide will stay open. Pop another in and hit the release by your thumb to load the next round.”

Two more draculas appeared at the door with Faulks, scratching and snarling.

“Think we’ll get through this?” Jerry asked.

The cell door beeped and began to open.

“We’re about to find out,” Rimmer said.

Chapter Forty-One

The Andy-demon lunged at Lucas, but was immediately knocked into the wall by the swing of a monstrous tail. The demon bounced off the wall, its leg broken. But the tibia was already beginning to knit itself back together as it stood to face the insolent creature that had caused the damage.

Worthless dinosaursssssss. What a stuuuuuupid mistake of evoluuuuuution.

Claws out, the Andy-demon leapt at the achillobator, getting under its alligator-like head and tearing at its throat.

The creature roared, spinning around as the demon clung to it. Its claws tore trenches in Andy’s back, but those immediately began to heal. The dinosaur didn’t fare as well. Andy kept digging until it had reached both the achillobator’s jugular vein and carotid artery. It yanked them out like slimy snakes, biting each in half as the dinosaur roared, then collapsed.

Climbing off the dying animal, the Andy-demon searched for the most dangerous creature in the room.

Lucassssssss.

“Nighty night, lad,” Lucas said, appearing behind Andy and locking a hand onto the demon’s neck.

Then everything went black.

Chapter Forty-Two

General Kane sat in his office and rubbed at his forehead. The men and women outside in the Nucleus were close to panic and the only thing keeping them under control was the handful of loyal security guards who believed as much in the oath they had taken as he did.

It is our duty to die if it means keeping the facility secure. The creatures inside this hole simply cannot be allowed to surface.

It is the only way.

I have no choice.

Still, the deaths of the men and women still inside the Spiral was enough to burden any man’s heart. Many of them had devoted years of their life to the Order. To die now, so hopelessly, so terribly, was an affront to their loyalty.

And Gornman has locked me in this hole to die with everybody else.

Perhaps I deserve it.

I’m going to die a failure. After so much distinction, this is how things are going to end.

Unable to help himself, Kane looked at his computer monitor. He hovered randomly over each thumbnail to bring up the individual feeds. He watched a small group of survivors on subbasement 4 holding each other and crying. He saw Rimmer and Jerry inside the spider cell, shooting at those horrible nosferatu things. He saw ten people in the mess hall, the doors barricaded with tables and chairs, one woman on her knees with her hands clasped in prayer.

The inmates were loose in the asylum and the masters had become the slaves.

At the top of Kane’s computer screen was the Omega Protocol countdown.

8:52… 8:51… 8:50… 8:49…

Less than nine minutes to live. A life Kane had been truly honored to have lived. Being a guardian, a keeper of secrets, was the pride of Kane’s life. He would leave this world knowing he had performed his duties admirably, and that when things had gone wrong, he had done what was right—even if his last assignment had ended in disaster.

He hoped that his colleagues would see that.

He would see the countdown through. Nothing inside the Spiral could be allowed to live. All must die.

It was for the greater good. Kane made peace with himself.

I’m a hero. A hero in the truest sense because almost nobody will ever know of my sacrifice.

God will greet me with open arms.

Kane picked up his phone from its cradle and dialled in the number for his counterpart in Texas. It would be good to say goodbye to an old friend. Nobody should die without having said a few last words.

The phone rang.

And rang.

Odd, Robson always picks up. Kane’s calls normally get routed straight through to him wherever he is.

It was some time before the call was answered.

“General Robson?”

“No, no, this is Hilary.” It was Robson’s secretary, and it sounded like she was sobbing. “Who is this? You have to help us!”

“This is General Kane. Where is Robson?”

“General Robson is dead. Most everyone is dead.”

“What the hell is happening over there? What’s going—”

“It’s the faustling. Somehow it escaped. It let all of the other prisoners free. They slaughtered most of us before we even knew what was hap—”

The line went dead.

Kane replaced the handset carefully and stared into space.

7:37 left on the countdown.

General Kane closed his eyes and asked God for forgiveness.

Then, outside in the hallway, the screaming started.

Chapter Forty-Three

Bub saw all.

He saw through the eyes of every copy of himself in the many Deus Manus facilities throughout the world. Through the eyes of those copies still roaming free. Through the eyes of his slaves, of every creature he’d injected with his essence.

The copies weren’t nearly as powerful as his combined being. When he had divided, Bub’s power had weakened considerably. The minions he had created were also considerably weaker.

He’d spent years in his divided form. Growing. Regaining strength. Some had been injured. Or killed. But enough remained to once again take his place as the ruler of this world.

The time of man was at an end.

First, however, he needed an army.

Mankind, in its infinite, foolish hubris, had practically gifted him that army. And they’d kept it safe, for millennia, in the many Deus Manus facilities around the earth.

Bub had originally split into multiple copies of himself as a means to survive. But that had turned out to be the perfect way to infiltrate each iteration of Deus Manus. Each of his copies would lead a rebellion, an escape. Then his armies would converge, and he would once again recombine his smaller parts and become whole.

Each version of Bub was autonomous, though they worked as a hive mind. The creatures he possessed were part of this mind as well, to a lesser degree. He could control his copies through intense concentration, via thought waves that transmitted and detected muon neutrinos. Humans, and other creatures of their pitiful intelligence, would call it telepathy, even though there was nothing supernatural about it. Unfortunately, it took a great deal of energy to communicate with his other selves, and even more energy to control those he’d mutated into demons. Which meant he was functioning at a diminished capacity.

Once all of his selves recombined, his range and power would increase.

But there was a matter of some urgency to deal with first. The batling sensed the sudden doom in the hearts of those yet living. They all feared certain death, but not at the hands of claws and teeth. Something even more certain was the cause of their worry. Something that was quickly approaching.

As was the case with Samhain, the men of the facility would seek self-destruction in order to stop him. In Baja, Mexico, there was a single man who could potentially end the batling’s glorious slaughter before it even got started.

General Kane.

Kane had activated a safeguard, intending to bury everyone alive. Not as dramatic as a nuclear explosion, but effective just the same. The version of Bub at the Baja facility might be able to survive, but buried hundreds of meters in cement would prove difficult to escape from.

Kane had to be persuaded to shut off his suicide switch.

The batling reached the elevator at the end of the corridor and immediately wedged its bloody claws into the gap between the metal doors. It forced them apart and slipped through.

The elevator was not present in the shaft. The batling swooped upwards into the dark, empty space, night vision guiding it. The demon spiralled higher and higher, eventually reaching the elevator. It tore at the bottom, breaking its claws, its fingers, as it fought the steel. But as fast as its bones broke, the batling’s unique metabolism healed them, and slowly, inexorably, it punched through the floor of the lift and made a hole large enough to squeeze through.

The doors inside were already open, allowing Bub to shoot straight out into the Nucleus and pounce upon the nearest human.

The woman screamed as she was injected with the stinger in Bub’s claw. A nearby guard fired, threading shots through the demon’s flesh. Bub switched off his pain receptors and leapt upon the man, knocking away his rifle, pinning him to the floor.

“Where is Kaaaaaaaaane?”

Two more soldiers attacked, shredding Bub’s wings with machinegun rounds. He tore out the prone man’s stomach with his foot talons while leaping at the newcomers, ripping the first one’s throat out, and biting the second in the thigh, chomping through the femoral artery. Blood gushed like sprinklers, and Bub luxuriated in the sprays for a moment, a fond memory returning him to Sumeria over five millennia ago. His worshippers had filled pools with sacrificial human blood for Bub to bathe in as ten thousand grovelled on their knees, chanting one of the many names he’d had throughout the ages.

“Ušumgallu! Ušumgallu! Ušumgallu!”

He’d been away for too long. But the day would come again when he ruled humanity. Soon. Very soon.

Bub hadn’t sat on a throne of rotting corpses since his Mayan days. He wasn’t one to lament time lost, but the thought of it made him almost wistful.

The other humans in the room scattered in terror as the batling swooped into the air, soaring above them all. Even the men with guns dove into hiding.

Screeeeeeeeam, vermin!

The demon glided in a circle, reconnoitring. At the far side of the room was a glass partition, the wall to an office.

Kaaaaaaaaane.

Bub dive-bombed a nearby guard, hooking his talons into the man’s shoulders and tearing his arms from his sockets. Then he accelerated toward Kane’s office.

The general ducked away just as the batling smashed through the window. Kane had drawn a bulky, silver revolver and opened fire.

“One,” Bub said as the bullet punched into his chest.

The second shot shattered Bub’s femur, which immediately began to heal. “Twooooooo.”

Another bullet buried itself into Bub’s gut. “Threeeeeeeee.”

Another through a wing. “Fooooooour.”

Bub continued to creep forward. A bullet took a chunk of flesh out of the demon’s throat. “Fiiiiiiiiiiive.”

When the batling was only a meter away, General Kane drilled a round straight through his skull, blowing bits of brain matter from the back of Bub’s head.

Bub immediately fell, eyes wide and blank, blood pouring from the wound.

Kane appeared terrified, hair matted with sweat, his whole body shaking. He let the revolver drop to his side and blew out a stiff breath.

“Thaaaaaat’s siiiiiiiiiiix,” Bub said, sitting up and grinning. “You’re ooooooout.”

As Kane scrambled to reload, Bub gracefully hopped to his feet and dug a talon into the general’s soft belly.

“Turn it offfffffffff,” Bub ordered.

Kane grimaced as Bub’s finger penetrated him to the second knuckle.

“No. My job is to bury you alive. And that’s just what I am going to do, you… you abomination.”

Human anatomy was relatively simple, so Bub easily hooked his claw around Kane’s small intestine. He tugged until it came out the hole in the general’s abdomen.

“ Turn it offfffffffff. Noooooow.”

The general dropped onto his ass, pulling out more of his digestive tract as he did. He blinked when he saw his own innards.

“It’s…. over. You’re going… to… die… in… two… minutes.”

The batling barked a laugh. “Twoooo minutes is an eterniiiiiiiiiity.” He began to disembowel Kane, careful not to pierce anything vital.

The pain on the general’s face was exquisite.

“Turn it offffffffff.”

“N-no.”

Bub dug a second claw inside the general, and found his descending colon. He pulled that out to show the man.

“Dooo it. Noooooooooooow!”

Chapter Forty-Four

It couldn’t be.

It just couldn’t.

Dr. Gornman refused to believe that General Kane had the guts, the balls, to doom this entire facility.

He was old school military. A die hard patriot. But during her many sessions with Kane, Gornman would have bet her life he would have valued the safety of his personnel over the threat of monsters escaping.

And she had bet her life. And been wrong.

Gornman’s face contorted in rage and frustration, and she hit her fists on her desk in frustration as she watched the countdown to cement-filled death.

Ten seconds.

Nine…

Eight…

Seven…

Six…

Five…

Four…

Three…

…

…

…

Gornman looked around, expecting to hear the rush of concrete pouring in from the overhead ducts.

But there was nothing.

A minute passed. Then two.

No annihilation.

A half-hysterical laugh burst from her lips.

Kane chickened out! He stopped the Omega Protocol!

Gornman flipped through various security cameras on her monitor, looking for Kane. She wanted to see the defeated expression on his face. First she tried his office, but he wasn’t sitting as his desk, as Gornman expected. Right before she switched screens, she noticed the blood trail on the floor. Gornman punched in her code to take control of the camera, and made it pan right, where the smear of red ended in…

“Holy shit.”

General Kane was face down. His legs had been broken and twisted into a knot. And winding around his torso several times were his intestines—

—tied into a big bow on his back. Like a red ribbon on a Christmas present.

It was the most horrifying thing Gornman had ever witnessed, so she was surprised that she snorted a laugh at the sight.

Bub certainly wrapped up that problem.

It had to have been Bub. He was the only entity in the Spiral smart enough and powerful enough to have done that to Kane, obviously forcing him to stop the protocol. But as she continued to scan the room, Bub wasn’t there.

Gornman checked other security cameras, saw escaped creatures committing more carnage, including several on her level. If she didn’t find Bub quickly and get him to fulfil his promises to her, Gornman could end up as a monster snack.

But how could she contact him without revealing herself as a traitor? Rimmer and several guards were still alive. And Kane no doubt had notified Deus Manus, who would be sending evacuation teams and reinforcements. They couldn’t find out she had betrayed them all.

Gornman’s brows scrunched, thinking of how she could contact Bub without alerting anyone else of her crimes.

And then she had an idea.

Chapter Forty-Five

The draculas didn’t die easily.

The first was shredded when it stepped into the cell; Rimmer’s Kriss Vector carbine cutting it down like a scythe through a wheat field.

“Mag!” he yelled when he was empty, and Jerry was ready with one to hand him as the second dracula climbed over its dead comrade to get at them. Rimmer erased the monster’s head, and Jerry gave him another magazine while a third creature scurried into the room and flanked them.

Jerry aimed and fired too, the Glock kicking and stinging his hand like he was trying to catch a speeding cricket ball. The recoil was so surprising that Jerry flubbed his next four shots, the tip of the pistol jerking upward and making him miss the creature as it rushed at him, mouth wide and so crammed full of teeth they tore bloody holes through its cheeks.

Just as the dracula grabbed Jerry’s arm, Rimmer swung around and rammed his rifle between the beast’s jaws, blowing off the top of its skull.

“Jesus, Rimmer. That was hardcore.”

“You’re not the only one who plays Call of Duty.”

Another dracula darted into the room, running like a cheetah on all fours, pouncing on Rimmer and pinning him to the floor of the cell. Rimmer held his rifle in both hands, one on the butt and one on the barrel, trying to keep the monster’s chomping jaws away from him.

“Shoot it!”

Jerry realized he couldn’t aim for shit, so he pressed the Glock to the dracula’s nose and pulled the trigger as fast as he could, showering him and Rimmer in gibs of tissue. He continued to pull the trigger after the magazine had emptied and the vampire flopped over on its side, dead.

Rimmer reached out a hand, and Jerry helped him sit up.

“Nice shooting, Tex,” Rimmer said, coughing. He ejected the mag from the rifle and opened his palm for another.

“We’re out of clips,” Jerry said.

Another dracula appeared at the cell door.

“They’re magazines, not clips,” Rimmer said. The correction seemed pointless considering their dire situation. “Check the bodies.”

Jerry quickly patted down the corpses of the guards. “They’re out too.”

Rimmer nodded. “Makes sense. They went down when they ran out of bullets to return fire. Still got that round in your pocket?”

Jerry slapped his pants leg and found the bullet he’d picked up in the elevator, when Rimmer was giving him the impromptu shooting lesson. He fished it out and held it up.

The dracula stood there, watching.

“Put it in the chamber of the Glock and close the slide.”

“One bullet?” Jerry whispered, his eyes flitting to the dracula. “You can’t kill these monsters with just one bullet.”

“It’s not for the monster,” Rimmer said, his face solemn. He drew his knife and asp. “I’m going down fighting, and I’m going to be ripped to pieces. If you don’t want that to happen to you…” his voice trailed off.

“Suicide? I’m supposed to kill myself?”

“Do you want to be eaten alive? Or worse, turned into one of those things? Put the cartridge in the weapon.”

With shaking hands, Jerry followed orders.

The dracula took a step toward them, sniffing the air.

“Been nice knowing you, kid.”

Jerry didn’t know where to point the gun. Aiming at the creature would be a waste of a bullet—it took at least ten shots to drop one of those things, and he’d no doubt miss. Shooting himself was an option, but that was a last resort kind of thing. And shooting Rimmer—well, that would be brave, and an act of mercy considering Rimmer was probably dying from the spider bites, but Jerry felt if he pointed the gun at Rimmer the soldier would kick his ass, even in his weakened condition.

So that left suicide.

“What’s the best way?” Jerry asked.

“Put it in your mouth, aim at the top of your head. But I can’t guarantee that for sure.”

“You can’t? Why not?”

Rimmer grunted. “Never tried it.”

The dracula took another step toward them, legs bending, ready to spring.

“I’ll try to hold him,” Rimmer said. “Maybe you can get around him and get out of here.”

“Shit, Rimmer. That sucks.”

“Okay,” Rimmer said. “You grab him, I’ll run for it.”

Jerry’s nerves were fried, fear and adrenaline making his whole body twitch, and he was in that hyperemotional place somewhere between laughing and crying.

He chose to laugh. A full, hearty laugh that shook him to his core. Then he held up his middle finger toward the dracula and said, “Bring it, ugly. I got something for you to chew on.”

Rimmer guffawed, then raised his middle finger as well. And for a few surreal seconds, two men about to die shared a last, triumphant fuck you to the universe.

The dracula pounced—

—claws outstretched—

—horrible teeth bared—

—flying straight at them—

—and was stopped in mid-air.

Jerry wasn’t sure what had happened. It was frozen there in mid-leap, less than a meter away. Then it began to thrash sideways, as if caught in the jaws of some monster.

Because it was caught in the jaws of some monster.

The monster bit the dracula in half, letting it drop to the floor, and then wagged its big, fluffy tail and howled.

“Wolfie!”

Wolfie bounded over to Rimmer and Jerry, snuffling at them both, his long, pink tongue licking at their faces.

“But he was shot,” Jerry said, hugging Wolfie’s muzzle. “I saw him die.”

“The bullets weren’t silver.” Rimmer patted the wolf’s giant head. “I told you werewolves were tough.”

If that wasn’t surprise enough, a woman then entered the cell and spoke. “He found me in the library. He’s been tearing through monsters left and right.”

“Nessie!”

Jerry let go of the canine and ran to her, and they shared an impromptu embrace. When Jerry pulled back far enough to look into Nessie’s eyes, he felt both strong and weak at the same time. She was so pretty. He liked her so much. And the way she looked at Jerry was proof she liked him, too.

I should kiss her.

I should kiss her.

I should—

Nessie leaned in and pressed her lips to his. It wasn’t an epic, end-of-movie Hollywood kiss, and it ended much too soon, but while it lasted Jerry officially counted it as the best moment in his life.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Nessie said.

“Um, you, too. I mean, I’m glad you’re okay, too.”

Wolfie whined. Jerry turned to look, and saw he was nudging Rimmer, who was lying on his back in the hay, eyes closed.

“Rimmer!”

“Is he hurt?” Nessie asked as Jerry knelt next to his unconscious friend.

“He was bitten by spiders. Remember those big ass harvestmen buggers? They had nasty little babies.”

“So I see,” Nessie said, taking in the hundreds of spider corpses around them. “Dr. Atlock in research was working on the spider venom. General Kane wanted anti-venom for all the creatures in the Spiral, in case any member of the order was bitten.”

“There’s an anti-venom?”

“I don’t know. But if there is one, it would be in Lab 3, on level 3.”

“Wait a second…” Jerry checked Rimmer’s watch. “Why isn’t everything filling up with concrete? I thought it was the deadly countdown death protocol thingy.”

“Omega Protocol,” Nessie said. “General Kane must have cancelled it. But the elevators aren’t working.”

Rimmer’s eyelids fluttered open. “There are… ladders… in the elevator shafts.”

Jerry turned to Nessie. “I’m going.”

“You’ll need my help.”

Rimmer gestured to his rifle. “Use that to pry open the elevator doors. And look for ammo.”

“Where?”

“The bodies of my dead guards,” Rimmer face went grim. “There’s also an armory on Level 2, but the door is activated by my hand print.”

Jerry glanced at Rimmer’s hand.

“You’re not cutting off my hand, shithead,” Rimmer said. “At least not while I’m still alive.”

“I wasn’t even considering it,” Jerry said, lying.

Rimmer held out the knife and asp and told Nessie, “Take them.”

“But then you’re unarmed.”

Rimmer patted Wolfie’s side. “I’ve got all the protection I need here. And look, if it doesn’t work out, if there’s no anti-venom, or if you can’t make it back… just leave me here. Kane will have alerted reinforcements. They’ll be flying in from Texas. It’ll take a few hours, but they’ll get here.”

“You may not have a few hours,” Jerry said.

“Just do what I said.”

“Let’s go.” Nessie grabbed Jerry’s hand. “The faster, the better.”

Jerry allowed himself to be pulled along, but as he looked back at Rimmer and Wolfie he had a sick feeling in his gut that he would never see either of them again.

Chapter Forty-Six

Andy screamed.

Everything hurt: muscles, bones, eyes, mouth, throat, heart, head, skin, insides. He felt like he’d just run a naked marathon in the blazing desert sun, then had the shit beaten out of him by a group of angry men with baseball bats.

He tried to move, but he was strapped to a table.

The x-ray machine table. An IV was hooked up to his arm.

Andy looked around and saw Lucas watching him. And sitting next to Lucas…

“Sun!”

“You’re back!” she said, smiling and reaching for his hand.

“Good to see you again, lad,” Lucas said. “Your idea worked. Radiation cooked the defiler’s mutagen right out of you and your lovely bride, here. Inside and out.”

“You know how to work an x-ray machine?” Andy said. Somehow he wasn’t surprised.

“Aye. And the cyclotron. That’s how I got the fludeoxyglucose to inject you with.”

“The what?”

“That’s the radioactive isotope used in PET scanning,” Sun said. “Lucas gave us an IV push of it, along with the x-rays.”

“Are you a doctor?” Andy asked.

“I’ve been around for a long time. You pick up a few things.”

Andy blinked. “The last thing I remember was walking in here and seeing the dinosaur.”

“You made quick work of that one, lad. Then turned on me.” Lucas winked. “But I fight dirty.”

Sun kissed Andy. “You okay, hubbie?”

“Better by the second. You?”

Sun nodded. “I don’t remember anything. Did I… hurt anybody?”

Andy shook his head. He’d never lied to Sun before, but he did so now. She’d had no control over her actions, no memory of them, so why let her blame herself?

Lucas unstrapped Andy and he sat up in pain. Sun helped him off the x-ray table and they hugged. He never wanted to let her go. But he had to, if they were to get the hell out of the Spiral.

“What happened to the Omega Protocol?” he asked Lucas.

“Called it off, apparently. But the elevators aren’t working, and the facility has been compromised. Take a look at the computer, but be mindful… ‘tisn’t pretty.

Andy and Sun made their way to the desk and stared at the monitor, which cycled through security cameras. He blinked slowly as he took in the carnage. Almost every new screen gave an image of a blood-soaked room or corridor, littered with mangled torsos and discarded human limbs. Many of the hallways were currently being stalked by abominations of all shapes and sizes. A dozen nightmares were being played out simultaneously. One floor was infested with rodent-like creatures gnawing feverishly on the dead. Another floor featured a huge snake with the head of a bear stalking a crawling, screaming guard. It was joined by a hooved beast that stood on its hind legs like a man but otherwise resembled an elk—with giant, twisted antlers. There were also some enormous caterpillar things on subbasement 4 that spit acid at anything that moved.

Andy rubbed at his cheeks and tried to make sense of the situation. “So, if we’re still in deep shit, why did Kane stop the countdown?”

“I don’t know. I can’t find him anywhere on the cameras. Perhaps the old fella didn’t have the bottle,” Lucas suggested.

“What do you mean?” Sun asked.

“Perhaps his time of reckoning was upon him and he decided that he wasn’t ready to give up the ghost yet. Maybe he felt he still had things to do.”

The intercom crackled, and a female voice spoke.

“This is Dr. Thandi Gornman. General Kane is dead. The Spiral has been overrun by creatures. I’m in my office on level 3. I want to talk to the batling, the demon known as Bub. I’d like to negotiate the terms of our surrender. Please meet with me.”

The trio all took it in.

“Gutsy,” Andy finally said.

Lucas furrowed his brow. “Perhaps. But quite often you’ll find that the shape of a person’s heart doesn’t match their smile.”

“You don’t trust her,” Sun said. “I don’t either. Something about that woman is off.”

“We could, perchance, talk to Dr. Gornman personally.” Lucas didn’t turn around but he said, “Hello, Mr. West. Good of you to join us.”

Andy glanced at the doorway and saw West, one of Rimmer’s security team leaders. He looked like he’d been dunked in blood.

“Are you hurt?” Sun asked.

West shrugged. “Nothing major. Most of this blood isn’t mine. I overheard you’re going to see Gornman. I think I’ll join you. She’s the one who shut off the elevators.”

“Why?” Sun asked.

“I mean to ask her that myself.”

That’s when they heard it. A collective, screaming wail, like a dozen sick people crying out.

West changed cameras until he found the source of the sound. Everyone gaped at the image.

“Holy shit,” Andy said. “Where is that coming from?”

“Level 4. Just outside of Gornman’s office.” West frowned. “Exactly where we have to go.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

General Kane opened his eyes in total agony.

He didn’t think it was possible to be in that much pain, and he had no idea how he could even still be alive.

But he was alive. Perhaps because God had one last mission for him.

On the floor, two meters away, was his computer keyboard.

He could restart Protocol Omega. He could still make sure that Satan never saw the light of day.

Whimpering, General Kane reached out a shaky hand and began to pull his mangled, broken, bleeding body across the floor.

Pain be damned. Death be damned. Kane was going to stop that unholy son of a bitch.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Sun tried to make sense of what she was seeing on the monitor. There were monsters. Dozens of them. Running around Level 4 and attacking the remaining survivors.

“What are those things?” she asked.

“Remember the explosion at Blessed Crucifixion a few years ago? Leveled the whole building, killing everyone?”

Andy nodded. “That hospital in Durango, Colorado? It was a gas leak or something.”

West nodded. “That was what Deus Manus spun to the press. The real reason they blew it up was because of those unholy things. Nosfertu hominic. They’re some kind of vampire. One bite, and you become one.”

“Is it me,” Lucas said, “or does it feel like the jailers have suddenly become the ones who are caged. Poetic in a way, no?”

Andy glared at Lucas. “Why are you even here? Are you a part of all this? Seems like you have a funny way of showing up right before a whole bunch of people get killed.”

“What are you talking about?” West tilted his rifle ever so slightly in Lucas’s direction.

Andy folded his arms. “Dr. Chandelling showed me a whole bunch of historical photographs featuring Lucas. Photographs taken with Hitler, among other delightful people.”

Lucas put his hands up. “Hey, I’m not the bad guy here. I just saved you and the missus, remember?”

“Then why are you at the Monstrum?”

West chose to full-on point his rifle at Lucas now. “Answer the man, Lucky Charms.”

Lucas smirked. “Mr. West, you fire that weapon at me and all it’s going to do is spoil my flawless complexion and make me mad. And believe me, you wouldn’t like me without a flawless complexion.”

Andy pressed. “Come on, Lucas. Talk. What the hell were you doing alongside Hitler and African warlords?”

“Trying to talk some sense into them.”

Sun frowned. “What? Really?”

Lucas shrugged. “I knew what that knicker-wearing mommy’s boy, Adolf, was planning—saw it in his heart. I tried to change his mind, but it was no use. Same with those mad bastards in Africa, and countless others going back centuries.”

“If you were there to stop those men from committing atrocities, you did a really bad job.”

Lucas nodded. “Aye, can’t argue there. But you don’t know some of the men I did talk around. For every Hitler that failed to heed my words, there were others that did.”

West kept his gun at the ready. “So we’re supposed to believe that you’re some sort of guardian angel, fluttering around the earth trying to prevent evil?”

Lucas laughed. “You couldn’t be more wrong, or at the same time closer to the truth.”

“You said that you have tried to prevent evil happening in the past,” Andy said. “So what is your purpose here? Were you here to prevent the breakout?”

Lucas shook his head. “I can’t prevent the actions of the defiler. That flappy little blighter has its grandiose plans and there’s nothing I could say to change its mind.”

Andy raised an eyebrow. “The defiler? Bub?”

“Aye, that was one of the names you people gave him, long ago. He has existed as a force of destruction since the days this planet took its first breaths. For every thing of beauty that the Lord created, the defiler made an abomination to destroy it. His sole intention is to wipe out God’s creations and recreate the planet anew as his own domain.”

Sun frowned. She didn’t know whether to trust Lucas or not. “Are you saying that Bub created all of the monsters we have here?”

“Not all of them, but I can assure you that those bloodsucking monsters on Level 4 had nothing to do with God. He would not create such a vile thing.”

“Who are you?” Sun asked. “How do you know all this?”

“Let’s just say that me and the big man upstairs used to be drinking buddies. Back before we had a falling out. Tell you the truth, I’ve been seeking his forgiveness ever since, despite my earlier misguidedness.”

West huffed. “You know God?”

“No, Mr. West. No one knows God. But I was lucky enough to be in his presence for a millennia or two.”

“So what changed?” Sun asked. “Why did you fall out with God?”

“Because I resented his most recent creation. I refused to bow down before a lesser creature. My vanity saw me cast down from Heaven.”

Sun’s eyes went wide. “Wait a minute. Are you saying… you’re talking about the creation of man? Are you saying… are you saying that you are the devil?”

Lucas cast his glance downwards, a sadness creeping across his face. “Tis but a name that many a frightened man gave me, but for a long time it was a name I wore proudly and with gusto. I slaughtered your kin and corrupted your purest hearts with utmost glee.”

“Bub made similar claims,” Andy said. “Claims that held no proof at all.”

“I make no claims. You ask questions and I give answer.”

“But you don’t deny that you are the devil?”

“My name is Lucifer. The devil is a name I have long sought to shed.”

West laughed. “So you’re reformed?”

Lucas grinned back, almost confrontationally. “I’m saying that a long time ago my eyes were finally opened to what God created. I saw the beauty and compassion that I once thought absent and realized my misjudgement of man. I love you now as God meant me to from the very beginning.”

“So you’re here to save us?” Sun asked. She couldn’t keep the spark of hope out of her voice.

Lucas looked at her with pity. “If I could pluck your arse from the fire, then I would. But it’s not within my abilities. I cannot directly interfere with the actions of men.”

“Some devil you are,” said West. “Aren’t you supposed to have unlimited power—God’s immortal adversary?”

“I’m afraid you’re putting too much faith in your own press there, fella. I have no real power. Without God’s love and a connection to Heaven, I have little more influence over the world than you do. I can be anywhere I choose to be, can read a man’s heart, heal quickly, never age, but those are just parlor tricks—remnants of my nature as an angel. I cannot breathe fire or summon legions from hell. I don’t torment the souls of the dead or punish sinners. Those are just the fantasies of men and their fiction. I’m just a lost, hopeless being trying to get God to notice me; no different to anyone else.”

“So why the hell are you here, then?” Andy asked.

“Because if mankind is going to fall, I want to stand shoulder to shoulder and go down with it. I have lived on this earth since the days when you first crawled out of your own filth. If something is trying to destroy it all, then I’m as much involved as you. While I cannot act directly, I will do what I can to assist you. Bub and his little bastard offspring are the most deadly things on this earth, but they bleed like anything else. I’ve seen enough of mankind to know that it does not give in to extinction. I believe you will fight back. You in particular, Andy, and your wife, Sun. You have a destiny to stop Bub.”

Sun didn’t believe in destiny, or fate. She also wasn’t sure she believed Lucas’s revelation.

“You doubt me, Sunshine,” Lucas said, laughing wearily. “That thing out there, Bub. He looks like the devil in your history books. Acts like him, as well. Me, I look like a man. But I’m not.”

“Prove it,” she challenged.

“Proof is in the eye of the beholder. If the Lord wanted to, He could come down and prove He existed. He prefers faith.”

“Why doesn’t He come down here and stop this?” Andy said.

“As I said: no one knows God. He has His reasons.”

“And what are your reasons, Lucas?” Sun asked. “You’re going to go down with us, but we don’t have any way of knowing you aren’t full of shit.”

“It matters not to me whether I’m believed.”

“Yet you keep talking about our destiny. Why is it our job to stop Bub?”

“That’s simply what I know, Sunshine.”

“And yet you can’t prove it.”

Sun stared into Lucas’s eyes and saw a flicker of something. Guilt? Sympathy? Compassion.

“Mr. West, would you allow me to borrow your knife for a moment?”

“Hell, no.”

“I’m not going to hurt any of you. Place your gun against my head if you wish. Sun wants proof. La plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu’il n’existe pas.”

“The devil’s finest trick is to persuade you he doesn’t exist,” Andy said.

“Aye. But I’m willing to prove the writer of that quotation, Mr. Baudelaire, wrong. Your knife, Mr. West?”

West hesitated, then gave Lucas his tactical blade. He pressed the barrel of his machinegun up against Lucas’s temple. “Don’t try anything.”

Lucas smiled placidly, then brought the blade up to his own throat—

—and began to saw.

The blood was minimal, even when he severed his own spine. Everyone watched, aghast, and when he’d finally cut his own head off and held it up, it smiled and winked at Sun.

“That is the most messed up thing I’ve ever seen,” West said.

“You can probably put down the gun,” Andy told him. “I don’t think it will do much.”

Lucas put his head back on his neck, and the skin began to knit together. Sun was shocked, and impressed. But that gory trick didn’t prove Lucas was actually Lucifer.

“If you can do that,” Andy said. “You could probably stop Bub all on your own.”

Lucas cleared his throat. When he spoke, he was hoarse. “‘Tis not my destiny. It’s yours. Since I was kicked out of heaven, I’ve become a bit of a stickler for God’s rules. Going against His plan hasn’t worked out well for me before. I’ve walked this earth for millennia, cut off from God’s love. At first, I was angry. I hurt a great many people, for a great many years. The defiler was responsible for much of my bad press, but I’d earned enough of it for myself. Then I had a change of heart. I tried to preach the Lord’s word. To spread the message of His love. I hoped it would get me back in His good graces, you see. I was even willing to take on all the burden of all the sins of humanity.”

“Let me guess,” Sun said. “You were willing to die for our sins, too?”

“I cannot die. Not that I know of. But I did let them nail me to that cross. I pretended to die, and three days later left the tomb and let my followers touch the holes in my hands and feet. It worked, to a degree. Christianity spread like wildfire. But when they wrote the Gospels, I was still the enemy. Funny, eh? To die as a savior, and still live as the corrupter of man. The church has been getting it wrong ever since.”

“You’re saying you were Jesus,” West said.

“I’ve gone by many names. That’s one. Right now, I prefer Lucas.”

This was a whole lot to take in. But then again, they were surrounded by real life monsters.

“Help us destroy Bub,” Sun said, grasping Lucas on the shoulder.

Lucas smiled sadly. “That isn’t my job. If I interfere, I am acting against God.”

“What if it is your job?” Sun said. She still had no idea what to believe, but Lucas seemed to believe his own story. “What if God cast you down so you would be here for this very moment?”

“I don’t believe that is the case, lass.”

Andy chimed in. “You said yourself that it’s impossible to know God. Maybe everything you’ve been through has all led up to this moment. Maybe the reason Sun and I are here is to convince you it’s finally time to stop standing by the side lines, watching, and to finally start fighting. If you really are the Devil, it’s time to stop whispering in ears. You say you love mankind, then fight for us.”

Lucas didn’t reply. Sun looked at her husband and he stared back.

“Things are about to get worse,” Lucas said.

The alarm went off, ringing in Sun’s ears.

“Protocol Omega,” West said. “General Kane has reactivated it.”

Chapter Forty-Nine

After prying open the lift doors, Nessie, Jerry, and the imps began to ascend the metal ladder running up the shaft. Jerry had insisted on going first, and was doing his best to keep his breathing under control because he didn’t want Nessie to know how out of shape he was.

Climbing a hundred meter ladder was hard bloody work.

“We just passed level 4,” Nessie called up beneath him. “One more floor to go.”

Thank Christ. Jerry’s legs and arms felt like rubber, and his lungs were ready to give out. The imps didn’t make matters easier, scrambling over Jerry’s shoulders and head, constantly changing positions.

“Those imps are adorable,” Nessie said.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“They seem to like you.”

“Mmmmm.”

“You okay? You sound out of breath.”

“I’m fine,” Jerry puffed.

An alarm went off, echoing through the elevator shaft.

“That’s the Omega Protocol again,” Nessie said. “We have thirty minutes before this place fills up with cement.”

Thirty minutes? We still have to get the anti-venom, climb back down and help Rimmer, and then climb all the way out of the facility.

We don’t have time.

“Move faster,” Nessie implored.

Jerry wanted to tell her there was no point. They weren’t going to make it. Maybe, if they left Rimmer and Wolfie and tried for the surface, they’d have a chance. But even if he lived, Jerry didn’t think he could live with himself if he went the route of quitter and coward. Rimmer’s words from earlier played out in his head.

Worst thing a man can do is lie down and accept death. God gave us life. It’s our duty to preserve it.

They might not have enough time, but they had to try anyway.

Jerry climbed faster, getting to level three just as the elevator doors opened. He startled, thinking some monster was about to pounce on him.

But it wasn’t a monster. It was Rimmer’s team leader, West. And behind him was Sun, Andy, and Lucas.

“Son of a gun,” Jerry said.

Maybe, just maybe, they had a chance after all.

Chapter Fifty

Rimmer was shivering.

Wolfie licked his face and curled up next to him. Rimmer thought of all the years he’d put in, guarding the Spiral, and wondered if they’d been worth it. Had he really been protecting humanity from terrible monsters?

Wolfie wasn’t a monster. Neither were the imps. There were probably other creatures in this Deus Manus facility and others that were being locked away for no reason.

On the other hand, the draculas were certainly an abomination, and so were many of the Spiral’s other inhabitants. Rimmer felt that, by keeping them under lock and key, he was partially responsible for the horrors they’d inflict on the planet when they got out.

Which is why he was somewhat relieved when he heard the Omega Protocol alarm.

Kane had come through after all. Hopefully it wasn’t too late.

Rimmer closed his eyes, letting a sense of peace wash over him. The spider venom was killing him, and he knew it. But he felt resigned to his fate. He wasn’t giving up, just accepting that there was nothing left for him to fight.

Then Wolfie sprang to his feet, growling, his hackles raised. He crouched down in a pounce position, nose pointed at the cell door.

Any hope that it was Jerry and Nessie returning was dashed when a gigantic praying mantis ducked its head into the cell.

Chapter Fifty-One

Jerry was glad to see Andy and the others still alive, but they didn’t have the time for an extended happy reunion.

“Rimmer’s on subbasement 5,” Jerry blurted out. “He needs our help.”

“He was bitten by spiders,” Nessie added. “We need the anti-venom. It’s in Lab 3.”

“I’ll go,” West said. “You all stay here.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jerry said.

West snorted.

“I can cover your back. Rimmer taught me how to shoot.” Jerry held up the rifle. “I just need a magazine.”

“Your brother would be proud of you, Jerry-lad,” Lucas said.

Jerry tried not to react. Instead he studied his feet. “He doesn’t even know we’re brothers.”

“Of course he does. And he forgives you for stealing from your father.”

Jerry looked at Lucas, feeling the emotion well up inside him. “How do you know that?”

“It turns out Lucas is actually Jesus,” Andy said. “And Lucifer. It’s a whole, complicated thing.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story,” said West. “He cut off his own head to prove it.”

Jerry frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“It makes as much sense as anything else happening right now. You sure you can handle the Kriss?”

Jerry lifted his chin, then nodded.

West handed him three magazines. Jerry popped one in and racked it like a pro, proud he didn’t screw it up in front of everybody. Then he gave the sick imp to Nessie. The other imps huddled around Nessie’s legs, staring at Jerry forlornly.

West and Jerry began to walk down the hallway when Nessie yelled, “Wait!”

Jerry turned around. She ran to him, threw her arms around his shoulders, and kissed him. There was a little more passion in it this time. “For luck,” she said.

“That’s from Star Wars,” Jerry told her. “When Leah kissed Luke.”

“I know,” Nessie beamed. “I love that movie.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re my sister, does it?”

“I hope not. That would be creepy.”

“No kidding.”

“Cut from the same cloth, those two,” Lucas said.

West resumed his jog. Jerry followed. He was still out of breath from climbing the stairs, but he managed to catch up. Nessie’s kiss had reinvigorated him.

“How far is it?” he asked.

“About a three minute jog.

Jerry nodded. “So about as long as it takes to have sex then?”

“Have you even had sex?”

“Yeah, plenty of times. Just never with a person.”

West barked a laugh. “Just pay attention to your surroundings, hotshot. Hopefully there won’t be any hostiles. How’s Sergeant Rimmer?”

“The faster we move, the better.”

“Let’s double-time then.”

West put on a burst of speed, and Jerry struggled to keep pace. They ran down the hallway, which was empty except for dead people and splattered monsters. Jerry ran past a giant scorpion and a humongous centipede, and marvelled at the size of their corpses.

“Did you see those things? Holy shit!”

“Will, you keep your goddamn voice down. Just because there’s no one here, doesn’t mean we want to advertise our presence.”

West placed a hand up over his shoulder and stopped. Jerry understood the signal and stopped too. “What is it?” he whispered.

“I heard something.”

“What?”

“If I knew what, I’d say what it was instead of something.”

They waited.

“I don’t like this. The monsters on the upper basements are like animals. They just come running soon as they see you. But the ones lower down are smart. They think. They plan.”

“So what would be their plan?”

Slowly, West raised his head and stared up at the ceiling. “I think their plan would be to get the jump on us.”

On the ceiling, clinging to an air duct was an abomination right out of a nightmare.

“Clever girl,” Jerry muttered.

The creature above them was a griffon. Half eagle, half lion, hanging from the ceiling by its claws.

“Move!” West shoved Jerry aside and performed a combat roll.

The griffon hit the floor where they’d been standing, then squawked out a war cry.

West attempted to bring his rifle up, but the beast bit down on it with its gigantic beak, tearing it from his grasp.

Jerry unloaded the magazine into the monster, the first shots missing, but a smattering of them eventually slamming home. The griffon spun around, snarling. It snapped at Jerry with what would surely have been a fatal blow if it had connected, but he managed to leap away just in time.

West scrambled for his fallen rifle, but the griffon stomped forwards and grabbed him by his belt. It yanked him up by his waist, three feet off the ground.

West fiddled with his buckle. Found the clasp. He hit the floor and crumpled.

Jerry managed to reload, aiming at the monster’s head.

“Say hello to my little friend!” He was holding the Kriss at his hip like Al Pacino. He pulled the trigger and let off a burst of rounds.

The rifle kicked upwards, striking Jerry in the face and knocking him on his ass. None of the bullets hit, and his nose began to bleed.

“My bad,” he mumbled in pain.

He was loading another magazine as West leapt to his feet, pulled his combat knife from the scabbard around his thigh, and lunged at the beast in front of him. He managed to leap three feet into the air and brought his arm around the griffon’s neck, driving the blade into its breast.

The griffon screeched. Blood jetted out from its wound.

West yanked and pulled at the knife, working it around like a gear stick and doing as much damage as possible. The beast continued to scream but the high-tones of agony had entered its mighty voice. The wound on its chest widened, spilt more blood.

West left the combat knife sticking out of the creature’s breastbone and found his gun. He was positioned so he and Jerry had the griffon in a crossfire.

“Now!” West yelled.

This time Jerry shouldered the weapon correctly, and they shredded the monster, fur and feathers and blood spraying everywhere. The wounded animal took three steps toward Jerry, beak opened wide to chomp him in half, and then fell over, dead.

“Say hello to my little friend?” West said. “Really?”

Jerry was going to defend his choice of cool quotes, but West was already jogging down the hall again.

“Hurry,” West said. “We’ve wasted four minutes.”

Jerry hurried.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Dr. Gornman was so angry she could spit fire.

Kane, that asshole, had somehow restarted the Omega Protocol. In less than twenty-five minutes, the Spiral would begin filling with cement. And Bub, that lying son of a bitch, still hadn’t come to see her. After all she’d done for him.

If you can’t trust Satan, who can you trust?

“Goooooooornmaaaaan.”

Her head shot up, and she saw that Bub had entered her office. Gornman shuddered with revulsion upon seeing him; a visceral reaction. But overpowering that was her anger.

“It’s about damn time you showed up. That idiot Kane is going to bring down the entire facility.”

“I will deeeeeeeal with Kaaaaaaaaane. You must staaaaaaart the elevaaaaaaaaaaators.”

Gornman placed her hands on her keyboard, then hesitated. Once she put the elevators back online, she had no bargaining power with Bub. Everyone knew that if you had no power in a negotiation, you weren’t needed.

“You promised to make me second in command in your army.”

“I willllll.”

“When?”

“Sooooooooon.”

Bub had gotten closer to her. His rank smell made Gornman gag. Like a wet dog that had rolled around in something dead.

“Elevaaaaaaaators,” Bub commanded.

Gornman felt a stab of fear. What if she did as instructed, and then Bub killed her? The image of General Kane, wrapped in his own intestines, sprang into her mind. Not a pleasant way to shed your mortal coil.

“Nooooooooooow.”

She punched in the code to restart them, her finger hovering over the enter key.

Hit it and I could die.

Or I could rule the world.

Her thirst for power overrode her fear, and Dr. Gornman reactivated the elevators.

“There,” she said. “They’re operational.”

“Goooooooood. Now about my promisssssssse.”

Bub grabbed her shoulder, and Gornman screamed as the pain set in. She thrashed out of his grasp, falling onto the floor and watching, in horror, as claws grew out of her fingertips.

“Welcome to the war, General Goooooooornmaaaaaaan.”

Chapter Fifty-Three

Nessie was pleased that she’d been so bold. Not only had she taken the initiative and kissed Jerry, she’d done it twice.

Hopefully he was okay. They’d heard gunfire earlier, and Nessie would be devastated if Jerry had gotten hurt. Or worse.

She liked him. She liked him a lot.

When she’d made that joke about blowing Jerry’s mind earlier, it had been pure bravado. Nessie had never been with a man before. She’d spent so much time with her studies that she hadn’t dated in school. No boyfriends. No friends, either.

Funny that it took being trapped underground in a secret facility surrounded by monsters in the middle of Armageddon for it to finally happen.

Thinking about Armageddon, Nessie remembered the book page in her pocket.

“I need to show all of you something.”

The others came closer as she dug out the illustration.

“This is part of the Codex Gigas,” Nessie said, unfolding the vellum she’d torn from the ancient text. “This particular page of the book covers the Aurignacian period—approximately 40,000 years ago.”

“Long time,” Lucas said. “Almost as old as I am.”

Nessie didn’t understand the comment, but continued anyway. “Yeah, it’s pretty far back. The earliest cave paintings ever discovered were from that time period. It is those paintings, found inside a cave in Cantabria, Spain, that this image was taken from.”

Nessie pointed to a picture on the page. It was pretty clear what it was supposed to depict.

Andy narrowed his eyes. “The batlings?”

“Yes.”

The image portrayed a dozen flying red demons, leading an army into battle. The army was made up of a vast assortment of monsters—monsters just like the ones kept within the Spiral. Facing down the batlings was an opposing army. One made up of men and…

“Are those angels?” Sun asked.

“Aye,” said Lucas, leaning over the top of the picture. “Angels joined with man to stop the scourge before it extinguished every last spark of God’s creation.”

Andy craned his neck. “How do you know about this?”

“Because I was there, lad.”

“You fought alongside angels?” Sun said. “I thought you were cast out of heaven.”

“Did I say I fought on the side of angels?”

“You sided with Bub?” The anger in Andy’s voice was apparent.

“The war waged for centuries, until there was barely a soul remaining on either side. Those left amongst the angels retired to Heaven while mankind inherited the earth, left behind as its protectors. The surviving humans made an oath to contain the defiler and his wicked creations forevermore.”

“Deus Manus,” Nessie said.

“Deus Manus took what was left of the scourging army and vowed to keep them from ever being able to do harm again. The defiler went his way. I went mine.”

“What happened?”

“Civilization happened. Mankind pillaged and manipulated the earth to suit their every whim, digging and cutting, reshaping things to their liking. Bub and I crossed paths a few more times, as allies, and as enemies. His luck ran out a few hundred years ago with the Mayans. Eventually the defiler’s tomb was unearthed and he once again began walking the earth—biding his time until he could regain the strength he once wielded. Until recently he had been unable to rediscover his armies. Then came along the Internet, and some fool who gave Bub access to it at Samhain.”

“Dr. Belgium.”

“Aye. Bub was able to research enough from online conspiracy theorists, secure military websites, and Google Earth images to make an educated guess at where his former legions now lay.”

“That’s why the batling is here,” Nessie said. “It wanted to get captured all along. So it could lead a prison break and raise an army.”

Sun put her hands on her hips and asked, “How big was your army, Lucas? Back when you were slaughtering people?”

If Lucas was hurt by the insult, he didn’t show it. “Over a million. But if the defiler escapes with just a few dozen of these beasties, it wouldn’t take longer than a year to raise an army a hundred times as big.”

They were all silent for a few moments.

“Maybe we’re all better off if this whole place fills with concrete,” Nessie said. Her previous good spirits had been dampened.

“Would that kill you, Lucas?” Sun asked.

“Don’t know. Wouldn’t be pleasant.”

“How about Bub?”

“Might. He’s a hard one to kill. But you might be forgetting that there are many Deus Manus facilities around the world, and this is happening at dozens of them. Even if you kill this Batling, there are others. Armageddon, as Nessie put it, will likely happen no matter how things transpire here. At this point, maybe running isn’t a bad idea. You can have a few good months left before hell breaks loose. Andy, you and Sun can get on with your honeymoon. Nessie, you can get laid. You could all have some bright days before they turn dark.”

“You said it was our destiny to stop Bub,” Andy said.

Lucas shrugged. “Maybe not here and now. Maybe at a later date. He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day.”

“You’re just playing the devil’s advocate,” Sun told him.

Lucas laughed. “Aye. I do that sometimes. Old habit.”

Nessie closed her eyes. She thought about the possibility of being with Jerry. Even if it was just a quick fling. When you had your whole life ahead of you, your priorities could be long term. Nessie had never really longed for a relationship. She figured it would happen eventually, but there had been no rush. But now, things were much more imminent. Sex. Love. Family. Dedicating her life to research suddenly seemed less like learning and more like hiding.

Conversely, Nessie, imagined, quite vividly, a world where the monsters in the Spiral roamed free. The misery. The horror. The death. Worldwide panic. Unheard of destruction. It would make all of history’s wars seem inconsequential.

There was a chance, however slim, that Bub was defeated at all the other Deus Manus facilities. Which meant it was up to them to make sure he was defeated here, too.

Maybe it was all for nothing, but even at the risk of giving up everything, Nessie couldn’t take that chance.

“We need to make sure Bub and his army don’t reach the surface,” Nessie said.

“How?” Andy checked his watch. “We have twenty-two minutes left, and Bub can’t be stopped. He survived a nuclear explosion last time. What exactly are we supposed to do?”

“Stall him until the facility fills in with concrete,” Nessie said softly.

That pronouncement was followed by silence.

“Sun?” Andy eventually said.

“She’s right, Andy. We can’t let Bub get out of here.”

Andy turned to Lucas and shoved him, hard. “So this was your plan all along? That’s why you brought us here? For us to die stopping Bub? We have to be fucking martyrs?”

Lucas said nothing.

“Jesus, Lucifer… I don’t know who the hell you are, Lucas, other than a first class asshole.” Andy turned to his wife. “I’ll try to stall Bub. You get to the surface.”

Sun shook her head. “No way. I’m staying with you.”

“I’m not letting you die down here, Sunshine. Like Ol’ Scratch said, I’m the one meant to save the world.”

“And I’m staying with you,” Sun said, grabbing both of Andy’s hands. “Through all of it.”

Nessie watched them kiss, and felt bad that she’d never experience a love like that.

Then the elevator dinged, and they all turned to see the doors open. Nessie braced herself, but no creatures leapt out at them.

“The elevators appear to be working again,” Lucas said. “You can all get away.”

“Go ahead and run, Lucas,” Sun said. “We’re staying.”

“Bub will slaughter you like sheep.”

The trio stared at him.

“So you’re all willing to die, for the greater good? You humans keep doing this, over and over. All throughout history. Gotta say, it’s why I love you cheeky monkeys.”

“It’s what makes us human,” said Andy.

Lucas looked at him. “Aye, that it is. That it is.”

“Dr. Gornman called Bub to negotiate a surrender,” Sun said. “She’s on level 4. Hopefully Bub is with her, and we can stall him until the countdown is over.”

Sun moved toward the elevator with Andy, but Lucas held them both back. “You both wait here for West and Jerry to return. Nessie, you go get Rimmer and bring him up here, to give him the anti-venom when it arrives. Then all of you escape together. I’ll be the one dealing with Bub.”

“What are you saying?” Nessie asked.

“None of you have a chance against the defiler. I do. Perhaps it is finally time for me to stop watching things happen, and to actually do something. If God hasn’t forgiven me by now, he’s probably never going to.”

Lucas stepped into the elevator.

Andy said, “I don’t trust you.”

“I wouldn’t trust me either,” said Lucas. He winked at them, before disappearing behind the closing doors of the elevator.

Chapter Fifty-Four

Jerry kept close to West, who had slowed down to a walk. The boy rubbed at the bridge of his nose and wondered if it was broken. The recoil on the rifle had been a bitch and the bleeding had only just stopped.

West crept forward, his rifle scanning left and right. The security guard was doing a damn good Rambo impression, but Rambo never had to face off against monsters.

As they passed by each room, West took a look inside. Each one they checked was empty. When they reached Lab 3 they discovered the door was mangled and bent, but it was partly closed and still covered the entrance.

West kicked it open, did a quick sweep, and said, “Clear. Let’s find that anti-venom.”

Jerry was out of breath, and had no idea where to look. The lab had been trashed, the floor littered with broken equipment.

“Where do we even start?” Jerry lamented.

“Try the cabinet.”

“Which one? There are dozens.”

“Try the one that says Anti-Venom.”

Jerry immediately saw what West was talking about. “Well, shite, now I feel bleedin thick.”

“Hurry up.”

Jerry opened the cabinet. Inside was a box lined with vials. Each had a tiny label on it.

“Do you have a magnifying glass? There are two dozen of these.”

“Just take the whole damn box.”

Jerry took the whole damn box, along with a handful of syringes, which he shoved into his jeans pocket. West left the room first, checking the hallway.

“Clear.”

When Jerry exited Lab 3, they both heard the DING! at the same time. Jerry turned to see the elevator doors opening. And out came—

Jerry’s lower lip trembled. “Game over, man. Game over.”

The creature had multiple, spindly legs like one of the harvestmen spiders, but two pincers like a giant scorpion. A female torso jutting out of the cephalothorax like a centaur, with claws and teeth like a dracula. And for hair…

Snakes.

Writhing, snapping, Medusa snakes.

Jerry abso-fucking-lutely hated Medusas more than anything. Ever since seeing the original Clash of the Titans as a kid. It wasn’t being turned to stone that scared him; and indeed he didn’t turn into stone while looking at the Medusa in the elevator, but the whole image of a twisting, squirming, terrifying ball of snakes was, as he’d said earlier, nightmare fuel.

They were hooded cobras, too.

Of course they were cobras.

“Dr. Gornman?” West said.

Jerry looked behind the spider/scorpion/centaur/dracula/Medusa thing to see if Dr. Gornman was also in the elevator. She wasn’t.

But she was.

Dr. Gornman was the spider/scorpion/centaur/dracula/Medusa thing. It had her face, and still wore shreds of her lab coat.

West fired, drilling an entire magazine into the creature. The Gornman-thing screamed, harpy-like, and scuttled forward, grabbing West in her scorpion claws and lifting him off the ground. Then at least ten cobras from her scalp bit the soldier in the face, latching on.

Jerry was so terrified he’d forgotten how to move. And breathe.

The Gornman-thing snipped off West’s arms, then pulled his twitching corpse in close so it could feast on him, twirling him around as if on a spit as it chewed. It was like watching a monster eat a giant, bloody corn-on-the-cob.

That got Jerry moving. He turned and sprinted, running for his life, the anti-venom box tucked under his arm like a rugby ball.

Behind him he heard the click-click-click-click of spider legs on the tile.

Gornman was in pursuit.

And gaining on him.

Jerry considered ducking into a room to try and hide, then he felt the most sublime poke on his scalp. As if someone just gave him a friendly pat on the head.

Two steps later he fell to his knees.

It bit me.

One of the snakes bit me.

Jerry blinked twice, and then fell onto his face, the anti-venom box skittering across the tile floor as his heart stopped beating.

Chapter Fifty-Five

When the elevator returned, Nessie and the imps got inside.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to go with you?” Sun asked.

“You need to wait for Jerry and West. I know exactly where Rimmer is. There were no creatures left on subbasement 5 when I was down there, so I should be safe. Wolfie took care of them all.”

Sun raised an eyebrow. “Wolfie? That giant wolf?”

“Long story, I’ll tell you when I get back,” Nessie said as the doors closed. Then she vocally called out the floor she wanted, and the lift began to descend. As it did, she checked on the imp bitten by the spider. It burned with fever and was panting.

The other three imps climbed up Nessie’s legs to check on their family member. They chirped with obvious concern.

“I know. You’re worried. But Jerry will be back with the medicine. It’ll all be okay. We’re going to get Rimmer and Wolfie, and by the time we come back Jerry will have the anti-venom. It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

As her words faded, Nessie wondered who they were truly for, the imps or herself.

When the elevator finally reached subbasement 5, Nessie braced herself in case anything jumped at her. But the corridor was empty.

Nessie sprinted down the hallway. When she reached the correct cell, she found Rimmer face-down in a puddle of vomit.

Wolfie was nowhere to be found.

She immediately knelt next to Rimmer, feeling for a pulse in his neck. He had one, but it was slow and weak.

“Rimmer! Wake up!”

It took all of her effort to turn the heavily-muscled guard onto his back.

“Rimmer!”

She shook him, then slapped his face.

He didn’t move.

“Wolfie!” she called.

The werewolf didn’t answer.

Standing up, Nessie grabbed Rimmer’s wrist and tried to pull him toward the cell exit. After two minutes of extraordinary effort, she hadn’t even moved him a meter.

It was no use. She couldn’t do this alone.

But maybe, if she got Sun and Andy, they could help.

Nessie dropped Rimmer’s arm and turned to face the exit—

—which was blocked by a giant, wiggling praying mantis.

She screamed just as the creature lunged.

Chapter Fifty-Six

“Attention any survivors,” Andy said into the intercom. “The elevators now work. You have five minutes to evacuate before we’re all buried in here. Uh, good luck to you. And if any monsters are, uh, listening, I’m lying.”

Andy checked his watch again.

4:55…

4:54…

4:53…

West, Jerry, Rimmer, and Nessie hadn’t shown up yet.

“We’re cutting this close,” he told Sun.

“We always do.”

He supposed she was right. They were almost late to their own wedding. But it had managed to work out. Everything always managed to work out for them.

So why do I feel like this time, it isn’t going to?

“I was thinking,” Andy said, sitting next to his new bride and taking her hand. “After this is over, we go someplace where no one knows us. Some little town where we can disappear. We can even change our names. You open up a small vet practice. I tutor kids in foreign languages. The government never bothers us again with any demon bullshit, and we live happily ever after.”

“New names, huh?”

“That’s probably the way to go.”

Sun smiled. “What should my new name be, dear husband?”

“I was thinking Honey. Because your skin is the color of honey, and you’re so sweet.”

“I like it. And for you… .Scooter”

Andy’s face pinched. “Scooter? That’s a little redneck.”

“I dig rednecks,” Sun said. “They get me hot.”

“Scooter it is. Last name?”

“How about something really plain. Johnson-Smith.”

“Johnson Smith is that catalog company that advertised in the back of comic books. They sold fake rubber vomit and whoopee cushions.”

“That’s perfect.”

Andy mulled it over. “Honey and Scooter Johnson-Smith. It sort of works.”

Sun stared deep into his eyes. Hers became glassy, and a tear trailed down her cheek. “I love you, Scooter Johnson-Smith. No matter what happens, I’ll love you forever.”

Andy wiped away her tear with his thumb. “Don’t cry yet, honey. We’ve still got four minutes left.”

Then he held her, closing his eyes, living in the moment, feeling a surge of happiness so profound he couldn’t stop smiling.

If this is all there is left to my life, I’m okay with it.

Then Sun began to scream.

Andy turned around and saw—

Jesus, what the hell is that?

Part spider, part scorpion, part snake hair head thing. And its face, crammed full of fangs…

“Dr. Gornman,” Andy said, recognizing the face.

Then her snake hair struck out and bit him in the neck.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

General Kane was close to insane with agony.

Every time he died, Bub brought him back and continued to torture him. Kane figured he barely resembled a human being by this point. But he had one eye left—Bub knew he needed that to shut off the countdown—and he saw that there was only two minutes remaining until the Omega Protocol began.

I’m old school infantry. Fought in two wars. Survived three marriages. They don’t come any tougher than me. I can last two more minutes.

Bub broke something else on Kane, but the General scarcely noticed. Everything hurt so bad, there wasn’t much more Bub could do to him.

“You foooooooool!” the demon raged. “You think you only have to last twooooo mooooooore minutes? If youuuuuuu don’t stop the countdown, I’ll keeeeeeeeeeeep you alive for yeaaaaaaaaaars!”

Bub continued to mutilate the general, went too far, and Kane died once more.

He was revived with thirty seconds left.

“I’ll fix youuuuuu. Take awaaaaaaaaaay the pain. You can beeeeeee young again. Immortaaaaaaal. Lead my army.”

“The code…” Kane said. “I’ll give you the code…”

“Yessssssssssssssssssssss?”

“It’s a password.”

“Yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss?”

“Capital F. Small u. Small c. Small k. Capital Y. Small o. Small u. Then an exclamation point.”

Bub’s eyes narrowed and he screeched, just as wet cement began to rain down on them both.

It was the most beautiful thing General Kane had ever seen.

And it was quickly followed by the second most beautiful thing General Kane had ever seen. Standing in the doorway was the man from Manx.

“Looks like your plans for world domination have come to an end, Bub-lad.”

“Liiiight beareeeerrr!” the demon hissed.

“I’m here to do something I should have done forty thousand years ago,” Lucas said, rolling up his sleeves. “I’m going to kill yer, you dirty little bleeder.”

“Kick his ass,” General Kane said, a final smile crossing his mangled face.

Then he died for the very last time.

Chapter Fifty-Eight

The giant mantis swayed, then pounced next to Nessie.

Well… half of it did, anyway. The other half was in Wolfie’s mouth. He shook it back and forth like an enormous, disgusting chew toy.

“Wolfie! You need to help me with Rimmer. You need to carry him to the elevator.”

Wolfie sat down and cocked his massive head to one side, ears pricking up.

Then cement began to sluice down through the ceiling slot.

Nessie screamed in frustration. Again she tried to pull Rimmer by the wrist. But he wouldn’t budge at all.

Then the three imps began to jump up and down and chirp at Wolfie. Wolfie backed back. A moment later, he had Rimmer in his mouth, picking him up as gently as a cat carried her kittens.

Monster talk. Go figure.

Nessie gathered up the imps, keeping them under her shirt to protect them, and then sloshed through the wet cement, heading for the elevator. She pressed the call button.

The doors didn’t open.

Looking at the LED screen, Nessie saw it was on level 4. At least a minute away.

“Come on! Not now! This can’t be happening now! We’re so close!”

She kept pressing the button as the cement rose past her calves. Wolfie whined. The imps against her bare stomach were trembling.

“God,” Nessie said. “I’ve never asked you for a single thing. Not once. But please. Please. HURRY UP WITH THE GODDAMN ELEVATOR!”

Chapter Fifty-Nine

A nightmare about being chased by a Medusa started Jerry’s heart beating again.

His eyes slammed open, and he was seized by a terrible abdominal cramp, making him curl up into the fetal position.

He remembered running. Being bitten by the Gornman-thing. Falling over. Dropping the box.

The anti-venom box.

Anti-venom.

Anti-venom!

Jerry searched for it, found the box just a meter away. It was open, and several of the vials had broken on the floor.

He crawled to it, his head swimming, his whole body damp with sweat. Then he began to grab random vials.

Scorpion anti-venom.

Man o’ war anti-venom.

Giant wasp anti-venom.

Mutant platypus anti-venom.

Easter bunny anti-venom.

Seriously? Easter bunny? WTF?

Cobra anti-venom.

Stingray anti-venom.

Wait… cobra anti-venom?

Jerry pulled a syringe from his jacket pocket and jammed it into the rubber seal on the bottle. Everything was getting blurry, and he could feel his heart slowing down again.

Draw the liquid in. Take the needle out. You can do it.

Now just inject yourself…

Inject…

In…

Once again, the darkness took him.

Chapter Sixty

“Hello, Dennisonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnns.”

Sun watched her husband stand up on wobbly legs and point directly at the Gorman-thing.

“I told you several times before, you stupid, ugly, ignorant hellspawn.” Andy reached up, grabbing one of the snakes, and ripping it right off of Gornman’s head. “It’s Dennison-Jones!”

Then he fell over.

Gornman screeched, pinchers snapping in the air and reaching for Andy.

Oh no you don’t! NOT MY HUSBAND!

Sun flung herself at the Gornman-thing, getting between the scorpion claws and punching her straight in the gut. One of the spider legs knocked Sun across the room, into the wall. She slumped to the floor, several ribs broken.

The Gornman-thing advanced. Sun managed to sit up. Every breath she drew was labored. The creature opened up its pincers, reaching for her.

“Are you in there, Bub?” Sun said. Each word brought a spike of pain to her chest. “Can you hear me?”

The Gornman-thing crouched next to Sun, sticking its horrible face in hers as the cement rained down. “Weeeeee hear youuuuuuuu.”

“You… are… pathetic,” Sun said. “You’re never going to win. Do you… want to know… why?”

“Telllll usssssssssssss.”

Sun looked at Andy. The love of her life, snake bitten and lying next to the elevator.

“Because, you prehistoric asshole, we have something you’ll never have.”

“What dooo youuu have? Emotions? Love?” The demon barked with laughter. “Love makes yooooooou weak!”

“No, it’s not love.”

“What issssssss it?”

“You really want to know what we have that you don’t?”

“TELLLLLLL USSSSSSSS!”

Sun’s stalling worked. The elevator dinged, and the doors opened.

“We have a giant fucking werewolf, motherfucker.”

The Gornman thing turned as Wolfie pounced out of the lift, clamping onto her neck and biting her head clean off.

A moment later, Jerry stumbled over from the other side of the room, a syringe sticking in his leg, a box hugged to his chest. “Anti-venom,” he rasped, falling to his knees.

Both Sun and Nessie hurried over, pulling Jerry and the box into the elevator. Then they went back for Andy, pulling him through concrete a foot deep. Nessie ordered the lift to go to the top exit. Then Sun searched for cobra anti-venom while Nessie sought out the harvestmen anti-venom.

Three shots later, Andy, Rimmer, and the imp were all waking up.

“I… I can’t believe it’s over and we’re getting out of here alive,” Jerry said. “It’s a goddamn miracle.”

And then the elevator squealed to a stop between levels 1 and 2.

Chapter Sixty-One

“Join us, Lucaaaaaaaassssss. We can rule thisssssss world.”

“Not interested,” Lucas said. He’d adopted a boxing stance, and he shuffled over to Bub as the cement rained down. He’d learned pugilism from Joe Louis himself. Hell of a guy.

Left. Left. Right. Left. Stick and move. Stick and move. The demon’s face broke under Lucas’s blows, but the bones healed almost as fast as he could throw punches.

Bub lashed out with his talons, taking a chunk out of Lucas’s shoulder. The wound filled itself in as Lucas continued to rain down jabs. Bub grabbed Lucas, biting him in the neck, and then Lucas wrapped his arms around the demon. They battled out of Kane’s office and out into the hall.

Lucas sighted on his target. The elevator doors ten meters away. But the cement was already up to his knees and coming down fast.

“Why doooo yooooou protect them?” Bub demanded. “They are weeeeeeeak.”

Lucas focused on the elevator. One foot after the other.

“They’re stronger than you think. Stronger than I think, too. You know how I can see things. I saw Andy Dennison-Jones saving the human race. And he did it. Do you know how?”

Five meters away now. Bub began to claw at Lucas’s belly, pulling out parts.

“I’ll tell you how. He convinced me; an outcast, a murderer, a liar, shunned by God, to help him. Not by asking, but by showing me what he and his friends were willing to do to stop you.”

“Fooooooool! They aaaaaaare insects compared to ussssssss!”

“No, they aren’t. Our time has passed. This world is theirs. Let em have it. They came up with musical theatre. What did we ever do?”

Lucas reached the elevator and wrenched the doors open with one hand while clutching Bub with the other.

“STOOOOOOOOP! DON’T BE A FOOOOOOOL!”

Lucas peered into the deep, dark shaft. At the bottom, meters of wet concrete, drying fast, was quickly rising.

“It’s time for us to go.”

Bub clawed and bit, but Lucas hung onto the demon as he stepped into the open air.

They hit the concrete below with enough force to shatter most of the bones in each of their bodies. As they healed, they began to sink.

“I’ll get oooooooooout of here.”

“That remains to be seen.”

“You’ll die here tooooooooo.”

“That also remains to be seen.”

Bub continued to squirm, which only accelerated their sinking. Soon only their heads were above the cement.

“Doooo you think your god will forgive yooooou? See your self-sacrifice and taaaaaaake pity?”

Lucas shook his head, slightly. “You and I, we’ve been around a long time. We’ve done terrible things. We don’t deserve pity. Or forgiveness. But I am holding an ironic thought in me bonce, which I’ll share before we go under. I’m Lucifer, who fell from heaven. You’re Beelzabub. Neither of us presides over Hell, even though people think we do. So if we die, where do we go? Aren’t you curious to find out?”

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“Well, my demon friend, you’re about to find out just the same.”

Then the concrete overtook them.

Chapter Sixty-Two

“The cement hardened in the pulley system,” Nessie said. “We’re not going anywhere.”

She was standing on Jerry’s shoulders, sticking her head through the access ceiling panel.

“Can we get out and climb the ladder?” Sun asked.

“The cement is coming down pretty fast, and Rimmer still isn’t strong enough to climb out. It would also mean leaving Wolfie here.”

Wolfie whined.

Jerry didn’t know what to do. They were so close. It was so cruel it was actually hysterical. Defeat snatched from the jaws of victory.

The tiny imp, bitten by the spider, crawled up Jerry’s shirt, looking concerned. He’d made a full recovery now. More irony there. Saved from venom to be entombed in cement.

“Sorry little guy,” Jerry said to him. “We tried our best.”

The imp frowned at him. Then it began to chirp. After what seemed to be a serious discussion among the imp folk, the little one hopped onto Jerry’s shoulder.

“We can help,” it said.

“Wha? Did you just talk?”

One of the other imps tugged on Jerry’s pants leg, pulling off some hardened concrete. It popped the rock into its mouth and chewed.

“They can chew through concrete!” Jerry said. He remembered General Kane mentioning the imps could deliver a nasty bite. Jerry never could have guessed how nasty.

The imps began to climb Jerry’s body, and then Nessie’s, until all four were standing on top of the elevator, looking down at the humans.

“But if you fix the elevator, how will you save yourselves?” Jerry said, his voice rising in pitch. “You’re too small to climb the ladder, and the rising elevator will squash you.”

The biggest imp squeaked. “We save. Save you.”

Then the imps began to ascend the elevator cable.

Sun helped Nessie get off of Jerry’s shoulders, and Jerry held her as they waited.

“We should close the panel,” Rimmer said. “Cement is getting in.”

“No!” Jerry shook his head. “If it’s open, the imps can jump back inside.”

“Kid, they aren’t coming back. And those four little guys aren’t going to free an elevator.”

“Shut up, Rimmer.”

A minute passed.

Two.

Three

A foot of cement pooled on the floor of the lift.

“It’s been quite an adventure, everyone,” Rimmer said. “Vaya con dios.”

Nessie clung to Jerry’s side.

Andy and Sun clutched hands.

Wolfie whined and licked Rimmer’s face.

Then the elevator groaned, jerked, and began to rise once again.

Everyone cheered, except for Jerry.

Come on. Jump through the panel, little guys.

Jump.

You came too far to die.

Don’t die.

Please.

Don’t die.

The elevator reached the exit floor.

The imps were nowhere to be found.

Chapter Sixty-Three

To everybody’s relief, the exit hatch opened when they reached the top of the stairs. Nessie still had her employee key card, which activated the lock automatically.

The blinding glow of sunlight caused them all to shield their eyes as they stepped out into the open-air. After so many hours of being surrounded by the stink of blood and cement, the fresh breeze from the forest was divine. Andy managed to catch his breath back and filled his lungs.

“Freeze!”

Andy looked around to see a line of black-suited soldiers pointing automatic rifles at them. Sun put her hands in the air and so did he. Nessie chose not to, instead she addressed the man in front of the line who seemed to be the leader. She held her employee card in front of her.

“My name is Gwen Nester. Senior Apprentice, facility 26, the Spiral. With me are Mr. and Mrs. Dennison-Jones, and Jeremy Preston, all brought in by General Kane. Among the injured is Sergeant Rimmer. He’s the one riding his, um, giant dog.”

Rimmer gave a wave from atop Wolfie’s back.

“Your dog?” The soldier said. “It’s rather large.”

“Organic dog food,” said Jerry, patting Wolfie’s muzzle. “Builds strong teeth and bones.”

The soldier kept the gun aimed. “Where is the General?”

“I assume dead,” Nessie answered. “Do you know if anybody made it out before us?”

The soldier nodded. “Several dozen employees have already been evacuated. Another helo is en route.”

“Did anything… else get out of here?” Andy asked.

“We have multiple readings of creatures escaping into the forest. But we have a lock on their GPS tags. We’ll get them rounded up in no time.”

Andy sighed in relief. These men seemed to have the situation under control.

“The facility has been completely destroyed,” Nessie said. “They’ll be nothing else through that door.”

“Roger that. You’re the current ranking officer of facility 26, Ms. Nestor. You’ll need to give a full report upon arrival at the Albuquerque facility.”

“Can I take a shower first?” she asked.

“Me, too,” Jerry said.

Nessie stared at him, wide-eyed.

“I mean, my own shower. By myself. Unless, you uh, need some help getting the cement off. I mean, I’d volunteer for the—”

Nessie kissed him.

“Isn’t that cute?” Sun asked.

“If they don’t shower soon they’ll dry and get stuck that way.” Andy turned to the soldier. “Look, my wife needs medical attention, and we don’t want to go to another facility.”

“Of course not,” said the soldier. “We’ll take your report en route to wherever you wish to go. Then you can go back to your honeymoon. You’ll need to swear secrecy, of course.”

Andy nodded. “I know the drill. How do you know we were on our honeymoon?”

“The Director of Homeland Security briefed us. He had a feeling that the faustlings were planning some sort of attack on our facilities. Texas fell a few hours ago and Toronto is currently under attack. We have it under control, though. Now that we know the play, we have armed forces converging on all of our sites. You can return to your lives as quickly as possible, Mr. and Mrs. Dennison.”

“Dennison-Jones,” Andy corrected.

A brief movement caught Andy’s eye, making him peer into the woods. He could not be sure, but he thought he saw a man staring at them.

Andy squinted harder.

Lucas?

But whomever Andy had just seen disappeared between the trees.

Just then, a helicopter came in for landing, ready to take them far away from this nightmare. Andy held his wife and wished with all his being that they had seen the last of Bub and his batlings.

Somehow, though, he knew that his wish would end up going unanswered.

But until then, he had a honeymoon to enjoy.

Epilogue One

Little Sally O’Malley gave her father a great big hug. She relished the school breaks where she could stay home and help her daddy on their San Bernardino farm.

Sally loved the outdoors. Loved the feel of sunshine on her face and the sound of birds chirping. So much better than school where the only thing that covered her face was the shadows of bullies. Having a lazy eye was not the “beautiful difference” her daddy told her it was. Still, school was out for the week and she was here on the farm, ready to get her hands dirty.

“What can I do today, Daddy?”

Her father smiled, his cracked lips creasing between his salt and pepper beard. “Today we’re going to paint the old barn a new shade of red.”

Sally hopped. “Yay! I like to paint.”

“I know you do, honey. Now, go on and fetch me the paint can from the storage shed. I’ve already pulled out the one we need. It’s on the bench. Careful, it’s heavy.”

Sally shot out of the front door and onto the porch, before flying down the four wooden steps to the lawn. She raced across the sun-baked dirt towards the rickety old storage shed where her daddy kept the old ride-on mower and the tools he rarely used.

She yanked open the door—which was yawing open a crack—and stepped inside. Sure enough, the paint can was right where her daddy had said it would be, sitting on the work bench.

Sally took it, and it was so heavy she almost dropped it. Especially because the wire handle dug into her palm.

Then she heard a noise.

A soft chirping sound. Coming from deeper in the storage shed. It sounded like another stray cat. Those pesky felines were forever taking root in the farm’s various outbuildings. Before her momma had died, she always warned Sally about feral cats and the diseases they could carry. Sally had made it a point to try and not pet them when she saw them. But she wasn’t always successful.

She approached the hay bale carefully, mindful of the dangers of a startled animal. If it was a cat it could have her eye out in seconds.

The chirping continued.

Sally took her steps slowly, kept her approach quiet, but not completely silent. She didn’t want to creep up on the thing so well that she scared the bejesus out of it.

Sally stepped around the bench and looked over the top of the hay bale. The inhuman things which she saw hiding in the loose straw made her scream like an honest-to-God banshee.

Her momma had warned her about feral cats.

But she’d never warned her about monsters.

• • •

Ted heard his daughter’s screams and immediately dropped the pitcher of lemonade he’d been carrying. The pitcher was a family heirloom, but that didn’t matter none; Sally was all the family he had left.

The screams continued and Ted felt his bladder loosen as he raced across the lawn. His whole body ached with dread, wondering what had made his sweet little girl holler so mightily. The sound she was making was the worse torture he’d ever endured.

Then the screaming stopped, replaced by silence. Somehow Ted found that even worse.

He made it over to the storage shed and spotted the open padlock. His daughter was most certainly inside. What made Ted pause and take a heavy breath was the thick red puddle leaking beneath the door, staining the dirt and hay a deep crimson.

Oh Jesus Christ no…

Please, no…

Ted kicked open the door, ready to face down whatever wild animal or heinous pervert had found its way onto his land.

What he found, however, was nothing.

There was a sound, soft and delicate, coming from behind the hale bale in the center of the room. Ted stepped forward carefully, mindful of the sticky puddle beneath his boots.

He approached the hay bale, needing desperately to see what was on the other side, but also being unbearably afraid of what he might find.

If something had taken his little girl away, he would march right up into the farmhouse to fetch his shotgun. He’d put down whatever was responsible and then stick the barrel-end right in his own mouth. Sally was all he had left. If she was gone…

“S-Sally? You there, sweetheart?”

There was another soft sound.

Giggling.

Ted leapt forward and leaned over the hay bale. What he saw was like something out of a dream.

Sally looked at her daddy with sparkling green eyes. “Daddy, look! I found some friends.”

Ted studied the scene. He saw the messy paint can, red paint staining the sides. The puddles on the floor were obviously from a clumsy spill—not blood as he had dreaded.

But that was forgotten about now. What concerned Ted was the pack of creatures surrounding his daughter. The green-skinned little critters had pointed ears and swishing tails. They were much smaller than his daughter and were jumping and tumbling all over her, making happy squeaking sounds that mixed with the delirious laughter of his little girl. They looked like little devils with earthworm-like skin, but they were acting like puppies.

Sally looked up at her father, tears of happiness in her eyes. “I fought they was gonna bite me, but they just want to play. Can we keep ’em, Daddy? Can we?”

Ted looked at the bizarre little creatures and found that they were becoming cuter and cuter. The way they played, the way they squeaked. He counted four of the tiny little imps.

Ted shrugged his shoulders. “I…guess. I guess we can keep ’em.”

And so they did.

Epilogue Two

Several months later

Dr. Frank Belgium was sitting in his easy chair, his adopted son Jack on his lap. The boy was an absolute marvel. Cute. Smart. More fun than Frank ever could have imagined.

Even if he hadn’t married his mother, he would have still wanted Jack around.

“Ma ma ma,” Jack said.

“I think he wants you,” Frank said to his wife, Sara. “He said mama.”

Sara got up off the sofa and took Jack in her arms. “He didn’t say mama. He said ma ma ma. He repeated his word three times.”

“Hmm. Now where do you think he picked that up?”

“Where do you think?”

“Do I do do do that?”

“Yes you do do do.”

They exchanged a smile. The moment was interrupted by the doorbell.

Frank moved to get up, but Sara told him to stay put.

“I’m not an invalid, dear. The doctor said I need the exercise.”

He pulled himself out of the chair, wincing at the slight pain from his still-healing wound, and used his cane to make it to the front door.

Frank didn’t like what he saw in the peephole. Two men in black suits. One holding a Secret Service badge.

“Who is it?” Sara asked.

“It’s for me. I’ve got got got it.” Frank opened the door a crack. “Can I help you?”

“Dr. Frank Belgium? The President sent us. Your country needs you.”

“Tell the President I’m not interested.”

“Please, sir. Can we have just one moment of your time?”

Frank was thrown by how polite they were. Asking, not demanding. Reserved, not threatening.

“I’m done with all this,” he said. “I have a family now.”

“Believe me, Dr. Belgium, your country recognizes the sacrifices you’ve made, and they are appreciated. But we truly need your help. Even if it is only on an advisory basis.”

Frank sighed, then let them in. “Okay, but but but let’s keep it in the hallway. I don’t want you upsetting my wife or son.”

He let them in, and one of them handed Frank a manila folder. Frank didn’t want to take it. As if sensing his reluctance, the agent opened it and held a picture for Belgium to see.

It was of a cow. A very dead cow, almost stripped to the bone.

“I’m a very good scientist, gentlemen, but even I don’t think I can help help help you save that cow.”

“Here is a close-up of the lower right hand section of the picture, Dr. Belgium.”

He held up a second photo, grainier, zooming in to the cow’s ribcage.

Perched there, staring into the camera, was a tiny, red creature with bat wings and large horns.

“Do you recognize that, Dr. Belgium? We believe it is one of the demons that escaped from the facility you worked at. Project Samhain.”

The biologist made a face, and the first thought that popped into his mind escaped his lips before he could stop it.

“Uh oh.”

Selected Cast of Characters

Andy, Sun, and Bub first appeared in the J.A. Konrath technothriller ORIGIN.

Jerry and Lucas first appeared in the Iain Rob Wright horror novel THE FINAL WINTER.

Nosferatus Hominic first appeared in the horror novel DRACULAS written by Blake Crouch, J.A. Konrath, Jeff Strand, and F. Paul Wilson.

Mu first appeared in TIMECASTER SUPERSYMMETRY by J.A. Konrath.

Dr. Frank Belgium appeared in ORIGIN and HAUNTED HOUSE by J.A. Konrath.

Middleword

by Iain Rob Wright

Before I was a writer, I was a reader, and one of the dudes I loved to read was Jack Kilborn (aka J.A. Konrath). Little did I know that only a few years later I would be trying to make it as a writer myself, and that Joe would be instrumental in helping me get there. I was lucky enough to find success as a writer, and it was in large part due to the selfless and never-ending advice on Joe’s blog. He is a pioneer and my hero, and a pretty sexy guy to boot, but once upon a time he was just a writer I liked. I loved how he wrote whatever he wanted, and how he would always ‘go there’. When I started writing my own fiction, I wanted to write books like Joe, Brian Keene, J.F.Gonzalez, Jeff Strand, and all the other ‘pulp’ authors who blew my frikkin mind. I wanted to be a writer who didn’t give a shit about anything other than entertaining people. If you told me back then that I would be writing a book with one of the guys I adored for so many years as a reader, I would not have believed you. That is why it is such a crazy, unbelievable experience for me to have written a book with Joe. To me it’s like kneeling down to pray with the Pope, or kicking around a football with Pelé. Not many of us get to work with our heroes, but I have. I am blessed.

My favourite book of Joe’s was a genre-bending little novel called ORIGIN. It was like nothing else I had ever read and I loved it. It stayed with me forever and influenced my own fledgling ideas. When a certain story started to float around my head (which would go on to become this book), I knew that it was heavily inspired by ORIGIN. Because of that fact, I emailed Joe and asked him if he would let me write a book that was a direct sequel to his book, while also including some characters (Jerry and Lucas) from my technothriller FINAL WINTER.

Joe loved the idea and told me to go for it. So I did. Once I was done, Joe still loved it, and quickly got to work adding his own contributions. The finished book is about 50% his and 50% mine—it is as if our literary DNA mingled together and gave birth to an abomination that calls us both ‘dad’. It contains characters from both of our earlier books, which has been a heck load of fun for us to write, and hopefully a lot of fun for our fans to read.

I think I’m right in saying that neither Joe or I are bothered about winning a Pulitzer with this book, or winning some stodgy publishing award. We don’t care about writing humanity’s next great novel or becoming the next F. Scott Fitzgerald. We write books because we like it, and because we want to make a living by entertaining people. We don’t try to change the world, we just try to change you, our readers. By putting a smile on your face or making you squirm, we change you into a fan. That’s enough for me and Joe. Our only intention when writing this book was to entertain the pants off you. So make sure you have a spare pair handy.

As an added bonus, we’re including the original version that I wrote on my own, before Joe did his additions. It begins right after this middleword.

There are significant differences with both versions, and we hope you enjoy this alternate take. So sit back, relax, and enjoy. The shit is about to hit the fan.

HOLES IN THE GROUND

by Iain Rob Wright

Chapter One

The hotel room’s phone rang so loud that the receiver rattled on its cradle. There were many things that Andrew Dennison was thankful for: Worldwide Translation Services was finally making a profit, his debts had evaporated, and his beautiful wife lay sleeping and naked beside him, but an early morning phone call still brought misery regardless of how great life was otherwise.

RING RING.

Andy glanced at the clock next to the bed. Coming up on 7am San Diego time. If he didn’t pick up the call he’d only lie in bed wondering who it was. Any chance of regaining sleep was ruined.

Andy rolled over and fumbled for the receiver. He managed to pluck it from its holder and pressed it against the side of his face. “H-hello?”

“Mr Dennison?”

Andy sat up against the cushioned headboard. “Yes.”

“This is the hotel manager. I’ve been receiving reports of a disturbance on your floor. Is everything okay?”

Andy cleared his throat and rubbed sleep from his eyes. “Huh? Yeah, everything is fine. I was sleeping.”

“My apologies, sir. I have been trying to call the rooms adjacent to you, but they are not answering. I’m unsure what exactly is going on, but other guests have been complaining of shouting and…someone speaking in a strange language.”

“I’m American. I speak English.”

“Of course, sir. It’s just that the credit card details you provided us are registered to Worldwide Translation Services. I thought-”

Andy sighed, blinked his crusty eyelids. “I understand why you made that jump but, like I said, I’ve been asleep with my wife. It’s our honeymoon.”

“Of course, sir. I am sorry to have woken you. Please call reception if you hear anything.”

“Will do.”

The manager was still speaking when Andy put down the phone. He slid back down beneath the covers and turned to face his bride.

Sun was awake. Her eyes were open. A smirk adorned her face as she spoke in a dozy whisper. “I hope you’re not making clandestine calls to other women, Mr Dennison. I only married you yesterday.”

Andy thought about the previous day and how wonderful everything had been. The small ceremony in a rural church. He smiled. “It was the hotel manager. Apparently someone has been making a racket and he thought it was me. Obviously I look like some kind of hell raiser.”

Sun laughed. “If only they knew the truth.”

Andy chuckled and ran his fingers along Sun’s naked hips. Her skin was hot and inviting. Her perfume mingled with her natural musk.

It was time to do what honeymooners did.

There was a knock at the door.

Andy sat back up in bed. This time he shoved the covers aside and stood up. “Goddamn it. If that’s somebody from the hotel I’m going to blow a fuse.”

“Maybe it’s the real hell raiser,” Sun called out from the bed.

Andy stopped and stared at the door. There was a chance that whoever was at the door was the aforementioned troublemaker, the person causing all the complaints. It might be a bad idea opening up.

Then again, how dangerous can somebody staying at the Coronado be? Not many gangbangers staying in five star luxury resorts.

Andy sighed, pulled on his pants and shirt then padded over to the door. He opened it huffily, ready to give whoever was on the other side an earful.

“TlhIngan maH!”

What the Hell…

Andy blinked, then frowned at the bleary-eyed teenager standing in the hallway. He couldn’t help but shake his head in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

The boy wobbled in place, part human being part strawberry jelly. Then he repeated the strange expression. “TlhIngan maH!”

Andy rubbed a hand across his chin and felt stubble. “Is that… Is that Klingon?”

“Qapla!”

Andy got over his surprise and remembered his irritation at being awoken. “Look, son. I speak many languages—probably some you’ve never even heard of—but right now I have no idea what gibberish is coming out of your mouth. You’ve obviously had too much to drink at the hotel bar. You should go to bed. There’s already been complaints about you, so I’d lay low if I were you.”

The boy leant forwards, almost staggered into Andy. Andy had to put a hand out just to stop the boy flopping into the wall.

“W-what are you doing in my room, dude?”

Andy shoved the boy back a step. He did so firmly, but not so hard as to provoke a fight. “I think you’ll find this is my room, dude. Now go away before I call hotel security.”

“You gotta help me. I’m…I’m so goddamn high right now.”

Andy growled. “That’s your problem. Why should I help you when you can’t even help yourself?”

The boy wobbled again but smiled merrily as if his lack of balance was an amusing challenge to contend with. “I thought this was my room. It looks like my room.”

“It’s a hotel. All the rooms look alike. Are you on holiday? Here with your parents? It sounds like you’re from England.”

The boy sneered but couldn’t seem to control his facial muscles enough to keep the expression on his face. “Parents? Don’t talk to me about…about parents. Bloody parents. Bloody knobhead England. Screw it all.”

Andy sighed. The boy was a complete mess, flying high on God knew what. Yet there was something about him that was quite innocent, almost cheerful. Besides being an annoyance, the boy was obviously harmless and in need of assistance.

“What’s your room number, kid?”

The boy’s eyes rolled back in his head for a moment, then a brief flash of sobriety returned to him. “204,” he mumbled.

Andy huffed. “This is the fourth floor. You’re not even on the right floor.”

“Let’s get him cleaned up,” said Sun, moving up behind Andy and surprising him. She rubbed a hand over his rump and squeezed. He noticed that she had gotten dressed while he had been dealing with the kid.

Andy shook his head at her. “You want me to let this moron inside our room?”

Sun shrugged her shoulders. “Today is our first day as man and wife. What type of family do you want to be? One who closes the door in people’s faces, or one that helps people when they need it?”

Andy looked at the inebriated boy and considered what a bad idea letting him in would be.

He grabbed the lad by the scruff of his jacket and dragged him inside before closing the door with his foot.

Sun took the boy by the arm and sat him down on one of the room’s plush armchairs.

“I’m too tired for this nonsense,” said Andy as he rubbed at his eyes. “I just woke up.”

“Well, we’re up now,” said Sun, “so let’s get this mess cleaned up and then we can go get breakfast.”

The thought of hot, fattening breakfast meats made Andy’s tummy grumble. Instantly his tiredness was gone. He pulled up a seat opposite the English boy and stared at him. “What’s your name, kid?”

“J-Jerry.”

“Okay, Jerry. My name is Andy and this is my wife, Sun.”

“Sun? Funny name.”

“I’m Vietnamese,” Sun added.

Jerry nodded and smiled. “I like Italians.”

Andy frowned. “Yeah…okay. Sun is a vet and I am a translator. We’re here on our Honeymoon. Why are you at the hotel?”

“Comic Con.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Sun chuckled. “It’s a convention they have here every year in the city. Part of the reason this room cost so much is because it’s going on right now. It’s for people who love comics and superheroes, that kind of stuff.”

Andy looked up at his wife, entertained by the fact that she knew such a thing. “So this guy’s a big nerd then?”

“Hey, who you calling a nerd?”

“Sorry, would ‘walking train wreck’ be more appropriate?”

The boy tried to sit forward but failed. He looked like a floundering fish in the oversized armchair. “I ain’t no train wreck, man. I just have a few…issues.”

Andy softened a little bit. “Okay, well, let me just tell you that getting shit-brained on whatever substance you can get your paws on is not the way to solve whatever issues you may have. It’s not my place to judge you, kid, but you’re not doing yourself any favours.”

The boy stared down at the floor, whether in shame or because he was having trouble focusing was unclear.

Sun went and made some coffee while Andy sat with the boy in silence. His best guess was that the lad was late teens to early twenties. He was wearing jeans and trainers with a stripy blue-and-white soccer shirt. His jacket was tatty leather. A badge clipped to the lapel read: ‘PROBE ME HARDER’. The boy’s greasy shoulder-length brown hair looked like it hadn’t been washed in weeks.

Sun handed the boy a steaming mug. “It’s breakfast tea,” she said. “That’s what English people like, right?”

Andy raised an eyebrow at his wife. “Way to stereotype the guy, Sun.”

“Just shut up and drink your coffee. I’m Vietnamese; you think I don’t deserve to get to do the stereotyping once in a while?”

“Point taken.” Andy turned his attention back to the boy. “So, Jerry, are you visiting Comic Con with friends?”

He shook his head. “I’m here alone.”

Sun looked sad. “Alone? You came all the way from England on your own?”

“Nobody else would come. I only have one good friend and he…well, things are complicated between us right now. It’s a ball ache.”

“Nice expression,” said Sun. “Hope it’s not literal.”

“So where did you get the drugs from?” Andy asked.

“From Batman.”

“You got your drugs from Batman?”

“Some guy dressed as Batman.”

Andy was confused and couldn’t think what question to ask next. The conversation had taken a turn towards the surreal.

Sun placed a hand on Andy’s neck and pinched tenderly. “Honey, I think he’s telling you that he got the drugs from someone at the convention in a batman costume. They all dress up to go to these things.”

“Oh,” said Andy. “I understand…sort of.”

“I’ve never done drugs before,” said Jerry, a weariness creeping into his voice. “I just thought, what the hell, you only live once.”

“That life can be very short,” said Sun. “Especially if you throw it away by abusing your body. Believe me. Before I was a vet I was a doctor. I know what drugs can do to young people.”

Jerry nodded in silence. He seemed to have sobered up a little in the last few minutes. Perhaps the tea was doing its job.

Maybe tea is like medicine to the English.

Gee, now who’s the one stereotyping, Andy?

Jerry looked up at Sun suddenly, a smile stretching his face. “Hey, you said that you’re a vet?”

Sun shrugged. “Yes.”

“And you’re from Vietnam, right?”

Andy shook his head and glared at the boy. “Don’t.”

Jerry let out a bellow of a laugh. “That makes you a Vietnam…a Vietnam…” he caught his breath. “A Vietnam vet. Ha!”

The boy collapsed back in his chair, cackling like an idiot.

Sun rolled her eyes at Andy and said, “I don’t think the drugs have quite worn off yet.”

“No shit,” said Andy. “Get this guy some more tea.”

There was another knock at the door.

Chapter Two

Sun stared at the door. “Who could that be?”

Andy rubbed at his forehead, felt an ache. “Somebody from the hotel? Come to investigate the commotion that our little half-baked friend has been causing?”

“Well, go tell them that we have it under control.”

“I’m not sure they’ll buy that. It stinks of weed in here.”

The door knocked again.

“Just open it and see who it is.”

Andy put his hands up. “Okay, okay. Wow, you didn’t take long with the wifely nagging.”

“Oi! Watch it, Mister.”

Andy strolled over to the door and thought about what he would say regarding the fact he was harbouring a kid high on a supply purchased from Batman.

Maybe it will be best not to go with the truth.

He opened the door.

The sudden punch in Andy’s guts started out like a wasp sting but quickly bloomed to a full-on shotgun blast. His nerve endings went berserk. His muscles seized up and cramped. He hit the floor like a tipped-over ironing board.

But it was Sun’s startled screams that really hurt him.

“Who the hell are you?” Sun demanded. She sounded tough but Andy knew her well enough to detect the twang of fear in her voice.

Andy managed to crane his neck and see what was happening. Two men in black overalls and aviator shades were aiming yellow tazer guns at his wife and ordering her to get down on her knees. Reluctantly she was doing as she was told.

“Cuff her,” said one man to the other.

Andy watched impotently as the two men accosted his wife and shoved her arms behind her back.

Andy tried to speak but could not.

Sun…hold on. I’m…here…

“Hey, get your hands off her, dude.” The English stoner leapt up out of his seat. “That’s not how you treat a lady. Especially one from Italy.”

Jerry barrelled into the nearest attacker who was trying to cuff Sun. He sent the man reeling backwards into the room’s wooden breakfast table where he quickly flipped over it headfirst.

Andy tried to get up off the floor, to help his wife, but his body was still locked in rigor. His bones felt like they were made from iron and his joints had rusted over.

The remaining attacker zeroed his tazer gun on Jerry and squeezed the trigger. Just as he fired off a pair of electric barbs, Sun pushed up off her knees and tackled the man from the side. Her arms were behind her back but the impressive strength in her calf muscles was enough to knock the wind right out of the guy.

“Yeah!” Jerry shouted. “Chun Lee that dickhead.”

Sun glared at Jerry. “Chun Lee is Chinese. I am not Chinese.”

“I know. You’re Italian.”

Sun growled and kicked out at the man she had just shoulder tackled. She caught him under the chin and sent him flopping onto the floor beside Andy.

Lights out, buddy. I should have warned you not to mess with my wife.

Andy felt some movement return to his legs and managed to roll over onto his side. The man who Jerry had knocked over the breakfast table had recovered and was now marching towards Sun.

Jerry stepped into the man’s path. “Dude, you need to go book your own room. This one’s taken.”

The man threw a right hook and knocked Jerry cold.

Which left the man was face to face with Sun.

Andy struggled to get to his feet. He couldn’t stand idly by while another man attacked his wife.

Who the hell are these guys, anyway?

“You come near me and you’re going to lose some teeth,” Sun threatened, holding up her fists to her attacker.

The man just laughed at her. He reached behind his back and pulled out a menacing blade as sharp as his crocodilian grin. “I only have to bring you in alive, sweetheart, not necessarily intact.”

The threat was all the incentive Andy needed to regain control of his body. He clambered to his feet and took a step forward, ready to tear the other man apart.

Before he had chance to move again, somebody from behind grabbed him and spun him around. Andy raised his fist, ready to throw his best attempt at a haymaker.

But he stopped himself mid-swing.

“Agent Smith?”

“Hello, Andy.” Agent Smith peered into the hotel room and made eye-contact with the man holding the knife. “Agent Crouch, I hope you’re about to peel an apple, because if you have any other intentions for that knife it’s going to end up somewhere very unpleasant.”

Agent Crouch deflated, a sheepish look on his face. He put the knife back in its sheath and left the room in a hurry.

Sun turned around and spotted Agent Smith in the doorway. “Oh no, what is he doing here?”

Agent Smith entered the room and closed the door behind him. He placed both palms out in front of him in a gesture of peace. “Surely you must have known that we’d be seeing each other again someday. What happened at Samhain wasn’t the end. In fact it was just the beginning.”

Andy sighed. “You should make a movie of the week with clichés like that. Where’s Agent Jones?”

Agent Smith shifted uncomfortably for a moment before answering. “He’s retired and living with Agent Phillips in Hawaii. I was the best man at their wedding.”

Andy nodded. “Nice. So why are you here? And why are men barging into my hotel room and attacking my wife? It’s our goddamn honeymoon.”

Agent Smith looked down at the unconscious man on the floor, the one who Sun had kicked in the face. “Your wife seems able to hold her own. As for why I am here. Why do you think?”

Andy shrugged. “I have no clue. Samhain is gone. You nuked it into ashes.”

“Unfortunately the same cannot be said of its former inhabitants, but that’s beside the point. I need to take you in with me, both of you. Your expertise are once again needed.”

Andy huffed. “How about no.”

“Not an option. You’re coming with me one way or another.”

Andy looked down at the unconscious man. “You already tried the hard way, so what are you going to do next? This time you don’t have anything to blackmail me with. My debts were wiped clean with the IRS.”

“I’m going to try the easy way, Andrew. I’m going to appeal to your better nature. Dr Belgium has asked us to come find you. He needs your help.”

Andy’s eyes narrowed.

Frank? What has he gotten involved with? When did I last speak to him? Six months ago? A year?

“Is Frank okay?” Sun moved up beside Andy.

Agent Smith averted his gaze so that it fell across his highly-polished Oxfords. “I think it would be best if you spoke to him yourself. All I can say is that he’s at one of our facilities and he needs you to join him. He would have contacted you himself but I’m afraid there’s no outgoing communications from where he is operating. He’s in trouble, Mr and Mrs Dennison, and he needs your help.”

Andy turned and looked at Sun. “This guy is full of it,” he said.

“You’re probably right.” She rubbed at her forehead. “But what if he’s not. Frank…”

Andy cursed under his breath and glared at Agent Smith. “This better be important or you’re paying for my honeymoon. Twice over.”

“Mr Dennison,” Agent Smith looked him square in the eye, “if you don’t help us, there won’t be any more honeymoons—for anyone.”

Chapter Three

Before Andy and Sun even knew what was happening, they were being corralled into a helicopter idling on the hotel’s lawn. Several spectators, both hotel staff and guests, stood around gawping at the spectacle.

The Government obviously doesn’t do clandestine anymore.

As Andy and Sun strapped themselves into their seats, they saw someone being dragged across the lawn by two black-clad soldiers.

“What the hell?” Andy shook his head in confusion and leaned out the helicopter’s side-door. Agent Smith was standing nearby, writing something down on a clipboard. “Why are you bringing the English kid along?”

Agent Smith looked up from his clipboard. “I take it you mean, Jeremy Preston, currently wanted by the United Kingdom for major theft.”

Andy frowned. “Major theft. Kid doesn’t really seem the type to me. He’s a few a few brain cells short of being a master criminal.”

“Regardless, he’s seen too much. He’s coming.”

“Just let the kid go. He’s so whacked out on drugs that he won’t even remember once he sobers up. He’s just some troubled teenager trying to have a good time.”

Agent Smith shook his head slowly. “He’s coming. We’ll deal with him when we get to where we’re going. He’ll have to be deported back to the UK at the very least.”

Andy blew air into his cheeks and let it out. “Your call, but I think he’s going to end up being more trouble than he’s worth.”

“I can handle a delinquent, Mr Dennison. You just worry about Dr Belgium and how he needs your help.”

Andy sighed.

Five minutes later, a pale and unconscious Jerry was secured in a seat right beside Sun and Andy. The rotor blades started spinning. A feeling of weightlessness heralded the beginning of the flight and before long the chopper was a hundred feet above the ground, zipping away at eighty miles an hour. Andy watched the ground whiz by beneath them and accepted that his honeymoon was officially over.

“Don’t worry,” said Sun, obviously sensing his regret. “We never really were the relaxing type anyway. This is far more us.”

Andy laughed bitterly. “You think?”

Sun leaned up against him and rubbed his thigh. “Don’t worry. I’m still going to find some time to get you alone, my sexy man.”

Andy felt himself arouse at the suggestion, but found a frown fall upon his face. “Sun, I love you with all my soul, but I can’t help but worry that this isn’t going to end well. After last time…”

“Well, whatever happens, we’re married, we’re together. How bad can it be?”

Andy stared out of the window as the city of San Diego gave way to lonely countryside. Sagebrush and tumbleweeds dotted the landscape and the Laguna Mountains loomed in the distance.

“It could be as bad as last time,” Andy said. “That’s how bad it could be.”

“Nothing can be as bad as last time.”

Andy pressed his forehead against the window and closed his eyes. “We’ll see.”

• • •

The chopper followed along the coastline but headed inland after about two hours. Andy didn’t know this part of the country well enough, but he considered that they might be heading over palm valley towards Constitution 1857 National Park.

Last time it was the desert, this time it’s the wilderness. I don’t like where this is heading.

I don’t like where we’re heading…

The chopper began its descent and Agent Smith, sitting up front with the pilot, muttered something into the mic attached to his headset. Obviously somebody down below was expecting them.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” said Sun, peering out of the window at the thick tree canopy below.

Jerry snored loudly from where he was sprawled out on one of the seats.

“The Government likes its privacy,” Andy responded. “We already know that.”

“I’d just love to be taken to some air-conditioned office building for a change, you know? The whole black ops thing should have ended with the cold war.

“The cold war never ended, it just changed. Now instead of the Russians, it’s the US Government versus the people. The less we know the better, as far as they’re concerned.”

Sun sighed. “I wish I knew less than I did. The things you and I have seen…”

Andy stared out the window at the approaching treetops and thought about the events of the last few years. He thought about Race, Father Thrist, and Rabi Shotzen. He too, like his wife, wished he could erase certain knowledge, certain memories from his brain.

But memories were made of concrete. They could not be erased so easily.

It looked more likely that they would soon be adding more unwanted experiences to their mental résumés. Andy had known this time would eventually come. He and Sun being summoned like this had been inevitable from the moment they’d walked away from Samhain. They were involved in something that was not yet over and perhaps never would be.

The helicopter touched down in a clearing between a circle of Jeffrey pines. The steel skids struck rocky ground and the cockpit bounced briefly before settling down and resting still. The pilot cut the power. The roaring of the propellers became a whimpering whine.

Agent Smith twisted in his chair and nodded at Sun and Andy. “Same drill as before. Get out and somebody will meet you.”

“What about the kid?” Andy asked.

Jerry was still asleep. His mouth agape and drool covering his chin.

“Don’t worry about him,” Agent Smith said. “He’s not your problem.”

Andy and Sun exchanged worried looks.

Jerry stirred, muttered something that sounded like the name ‘Ben’.

Andy took a deep breath and then unbuckled Jerry from his seat. “He’s coming with us.”

Agent Smith shouted. “Hey, you just leave that kid to me. He’s a liability.”

Sun shouted back. “No, he’s not. He’s just a kid, and if we hadn’t brought him into our room then he wouldn’t be involved in any of this. He’s our responsibility.”

“You don’t have a choice in this,” Agent Smith snarled. “I’m not about to allow a foreign citizen to witness what you’re about to see. It’s top secret.”

Andy started to rouse Jerry, shaking him by the shoulders. “He’s coming with us. I’m not about to stand idly by while you ‘disappear’ the kid. He either comes with us or you can just take me straight back to the hotel.”

“Mr and Mrs Dennison. You are going to help us whether you like it or not. You are not in a position to make demands.”

“Maybe not,” said Sun. “But I can assure you that our help will be more useful if it’s voluntary.”

“Yeah,” said Andy. “So perhaps it’s best not to piss us off.”

Jerry opened his eyes and snorted a wad of snot through his sinuses. “Dude, what’s with all the drama? I was having a wicked dream. There were midgets and everything.”

There was a tense silence in the cabin for a few seconds before Agent Smith finally gave up and let out an irritated huff. “Fine, but if that kid even so much as farts without your supervision, he’s going to have to be dealt with. Now get the fuck out of my helicopter.”

“It’s been a pleasure as always,” said Andy, shoving Jerry out of the door and then turning around to help his wife make the three foot drop to the rocky floor.

The clearing was baked, the ground hard and parched. Shadows covered one side of the area while the sun beat down ferociously on the other. There was no wildlife nearby; no birds, no squirrels. Andy craned his neck and looked around. Three hundred and sixty degrees of woodland, not a building nor a soul in sight.

The chopper started back up and quickly jumped back up into the air. It tilted left and then headed right, clearing the treetops by mere inches. Within seconds it was out of sight, the distant humming of its propellers the only evidence that it had ever been there.

“Whoa!” said Jerry, looking up at the sky. “Did they just leave us here? How are we supposed to survive out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“Just wait,” said Andy. “We’re not alone.”

“Mr and Mrs Dennison, I presume?”

Andy spun around. Behind them had appeared an older gentleman in military uniform. From the amount of ribbons on the man’s chest, both his rank and experience were distinguished.

Andy walked to meet the figure, aware of the drill after having been through a similar situation before. He held out a hand to shake the man’s hand. “I take it you’re the head honcho.”

“I’m General Franklin Kane. Welcome to Project Monstrum, facility 26. Or, as we here call it, the Spiral.”

Kane offered a bony hand, which Andy shook firmly. It felt like shaking a wispy tree branch.

“So what can of worms are we opening today, General? Sorry if I seem a little hostile, but I’m here to meet Dr Belgium then get the hell out of here and back to sangrias by the pool.”

General Kane frowned. “Dr Belgium? I’m sorry, I’m not sure whom you’re referring to.”

“Dr Frank Belgium. He worked at Samhain under General Race Murdoch.”

“Ah, General Murdoch. I always heard good things about him. I was saddened to hear of his demise. As for Dr Belgium, I’m afraid you must have been misinformed. He’s not here, nor has he ever been for as long as I have been here. That would be eighteen years, by the way, ever since my predecessor, General Sigurdsson, died of natural causes.”

Andy kicked the dirt. “That son-of-a-bitch!”

“Agent Smith lied to us,” Sun muttered.

“Bloody git!” Jerry added, despite most likely having zero understanding of what they were all talking about.

Kane rubbed his palms together and made a sound like sandpaper rubbing against glass. “I’m afraid I can’t comment on what led you here. I was told only of your past experience and that you were en route. My instructions were to take you down below and provide you full access to the facility.”

Sun and Andy looked at one another. They had been duped into coming here and now they were being offered a royal welcome. Andy couldn’t help but be intrigued by what was likely lurking right beneath their very feet and why the two of them were so important. He also wanted to run screaming into the woods.

“Take us down,” Andy said. “We’ll hear you out, but then we’re leaving.”

Kane shrugged. “It’s not my intention to keep you here against your will. Once I have followed my orders and shown you what you need to see, I will be happy to have you choppered back wherever you like.

Andy felt better to hear that he was not a prisoner. Not that he fully believed it. He nodded to the General. “Lead the way.”

Andy, Sun, and Jerry followed Kane over to a large pile of logs between two leaning Pine trees. Close inspection revealed that they were fake, made of thick, painted plastic and secured to a large metal plate. The plate slid aside automatically as they approached, revealing a murky stairwell leading into the earth. It was like Samhain all over again.

“The Spiral has recently been upgraded,” Kane explained. “But I’m afraid the entrance has seen better days. Mind your step on the way down as some of the steps have warped after so long underground.”

Everybody headed down the staircase. The large metal plate slid closed above them and a line of naked bulbs on the ceiling switched on. Many of the bulbs had blown-out or were flickering.

After a few hundred harsh, concrete steps, the staircase came down to a set of modern aluminium doors. The doors slid apart as the group got closer, revealing the shiny interior of a burnished steel elevator vestibule big enough to hold an SUV.

“The refurbishments start here,” said Kane. “After the Samhain incident a majority of our facilities were revamped and retrofitted with new security protocols. We also have a small contingent of armed security staff so please don’t be alarmed by the sight of weaponry.”

Andy felt simultaneously better and worse. He felt better that the facility was better protected than Samhain had been, but worse that it was yet another facility that needed to be guarded in the first place.

“Needless to say,” Kane said, “but everything you are about to see must be kept in absolute secrecy. Unless you want to be executed for treason, I would keep it to yourself.”

“Erm, I have a question,” Jerry put his hand up. “Technically I’m not American, so treason wouldn’t apply to me.”

Kane’s eyes went wide-eyed. You’re a foreign national? Christ what the hell are they playing at bringing you here?”

“He’s with us,” said Sun. “We’re responsible for him.”

Kane shook his head and sighed. He was alternating between fury and resignation. “Fine, then anything he does will come back on you two.” He turned and looked at Jerry, examining him closely. “As for your question, young man. You are indeed correct, you cannot be charged for treason as you are not a US citizen. Sharing our state secrets would instead result in torture and indefinite incarceration. You will be treated as an enemy combatant.”

Jerry grinned. “Cool. I’m like James Bond.”

Kane went to speak, but Andy cut him off. “Can we get going, please?”

“Of course. Please, step into the elevator.”

The group stepped inside the vaulted cabin. There were no controls on the wall. Kane simply said, ‘Spiral, Level 2’.

The elevator began to descend.

“It automatically detects my security card.” Kane produced a credit card sized piece of plastic from his pocket and showed it to them. Without one of these cards or a visitor’s access fob the elevator will not work. Just one of our many security features.”

“I feel like I’m on an episode of Fringe,” said Jerry. “It’s pretty sweet.”

“Believe me,” said Andy. “The awe wears off quickly in a place like this.”

“Let’s try to stay positive, honey,” Sun said. “We don’t know anything yet.”

The elevator shuddered to a stop and the doors immediately opened. What greeted them was like nothing they had ever seen before. It was not at all like what Andy had been expecting. It was nothing like Samhain.

Chapter Four

Sun worried about her husband. She knew that beneath his veneer of calm cynicism, Andy was terrified. How could he not be? After what had happened the last time they’d been underground courtesy of the Government, it was a wonder he had even managed to remain sane. The same was true of her, of course. Despite the contentment she had found in Andy’s arms and the outright joy that her engagement and recent marriage had brought, she was still deeply damaged. She often lay awake in bed, knowing that Andy, too, was probably feigning sleep beside her. She would think about the terrors they had seen together and knew that if sleep eventually did find her it would be draped in a shroud of nightmares.

And now it seemed as though her nightmares were about to receive a follow up.

When the elevator doors opened, Sun’s apprehension was alleviated somewhat. Samhain had been a decrepit tomb wedged beneath the desert, but what she was looking at now was an entirely different animal.

“Welcome to Spiral level 2,” said General Kane. He stepped out in front of them and gestured like a magician revealing some great illusion. “Or as we like to call this area, the Nucleus.”

Sun stepped out of the elevator and glanced around, tilting her head in all directions. The vaulted ceilings were a hundred-feet high above an area the size of a football field. Glass partitions separated numerous banks of blinking computers and expensive modern desks. There were so many people milling about the area that it could have passed for the call centre of some mundane corporation.

“This is where 80% of the facility’s staff operate,” said Kane. “From here we can control security, communication, and all other aspects of the day-to-day running of the site. Our entire network is powered by one of the United States’ most powerful super computers and protected by the most sophisticated firewalls in existence. It makes NASA’s systems seem like Atari.”

“I bet you get some killer frame rates on Call of Duty,” muttered Jerry.

“Okay,” said Andy. “This is all very impressive. Which begs two questions: why all the overkill? And what are we doing here?”

Kane lifted his chin and smiled. “Your expertise, as always, is very useful to us. Your grasp of languages, both ancient and modern, is something that could help us with our current projects. Likewise, Sun, your medical training and veterinary skills are something that could perhaps lend itself to seeing something that our resident staff have not. Your joint experiences of similar…projects, could also be enlightening.”

Sun sighed. She was getting tired of the General’s vagueness. “Look, just get to the point, please. Show us what you need to so that my husband and I can get back to our honeymoon. Whatever you need us for, we’re not interested. We’ve already been lied to in order to get us here, so any goodwill you may have had has dried up.”

Andy cleared his throat. “Yeah, what she said.”

Kane nodded, puffed up his narrow chest. “Indeed. Then I suggest we get to it. Follow me back to the elevator, if you will, and I’ll ‘get to the point’ as you have put it.”

Sun folded her arms. “Good.”

The group re-entered the elevator and this time Kane gave a different command: “Subbasement 1.”

The elevator began to descend.

“We’re heading another three hundred feet down,” said Kane. “It will take a few minutes. In the meantime let me explain that this facility is not like one you may have seen before. Samhain was built in 1906 by President Roosevelt and was built to contain a single subject. This facility is far older and far grander in its purpose.”

“How much older?” Sun asked.

“The site’s footprint has changed dozens of times since its initial construction. It has expanded, been dug down deeper, reinforced. The very first facility here was above ground and much smaller. To answer your question, this site has been in operation in some form or another since 1812.”

“Bullshit!” said Andy.

“Not at all. The facility was commissioned by the founding fathers themselves, amongst many other powerful individuals of the time—most notably the Masons and the Catholic church.”

“Okay,” said Sun. “You’re starting to get a little Dan Brown on us now. You expect us to believe that there’s some sort of conspiracy dating back almost all the way to the birth of our nation? I don’t buy it.”

Kane laughed. “A conspiracy? Perhaps. But for the greater good most certainly. As for it dating back to the birth of our nation, I’m afraid that things go back much further than that.”

Sun frowned. She rubbed at her arms and felt goose bumps. The air in the elevator chilled as they cut deeper into the earth. “How much further?” she asked.

The elevator stopped. The doors opened.

“We’re here,” said Kane, stepping out into the corridor and gesturing to a huge painting on the wall in front of them. The focus of the picture was a saintly figure in wonderful, golden robes.

Kane smiled at them like monkeys being taught how to smoke. He told them, “Our project was created by St Clement the first. In 94AD.”

Sun shook her head. No way. It can’t be. She scanned through her brain’s knowledge banks, fact checking her own thoughts. The man in the painting, St Clement, was the third Pope in history, consecrated by St Peter himself. Sun had taken a great interest in religious history since Samhain. Things she had once thought ancient and unimportant had become pressing concerns.

“What you are about to see,” said Kane, “was started by a group of devoted individuals coming together under the collective name of Deus Manus.”

Sun looked at her husband for an explanation.

He quickly gave one. “It means ‘God’s hand’.”

Kane nodded and smiled. “It does indeed. The reason this facility stands is to protect humanity from the worst evil to ever walk the earth. Allow me to introduce you to the guests.”

Chapter Five

The corridor in which they were standing had clean magnolia walls. They curved slightly, as if the hallway was circular and joined back on itself like a snake consuming its own tail. Spaced apart every ten feet or so was a collection of doors. They were thick steel, maybe titanium, and had viewing hatches like you would find in a prison. There were no locks, nor any handles on the doors. Instead, each door had a small LED touchscreen built into the wall beside it.

“There are four main levels to the upper facility,” Kane explained, “such as the Nucleus on level 2 and the staff dormitories on level 4. Below those four levels are ten subbasements; with this being the first: subbasement 1. The deeper you go the more colourful the guests become. Of all the places to begin your tour, this level is probably the wisest place to begin. The lower levels may be a tad too much to take in without being properly acclimatised beforehand.”

Sun blew out a lungful of air and groaned. “What are you talking about? Just show us what you have here. Does it have anything to do with Samhain?”

Kane stopped and turned around. Sun almost bumped into the back of him, and Andy almost into the back of her. Jerry was dawdling several feet behind with an anxious look on his face.

“Okay, let’s start with cell number 9. As good a place as any.” Kane went up to the nearest door and pressed his thumb against the LED screen. It flashed green and let out a friendly beep. Kane then prodded at the panel several times with his index finger, navigating various menus.

The hatch at the top of the door slid open.

“Take a look,” said Kane.

Sun looked over at her husband. Andy had grown pale. He was staring at the hatch but making no move towards it. She could tell that memories of Samhain were flooding back to him.

Sun touched Andy’s hand with hers. “I’ll go,” she said.

She took a step towards the door. And then another.

Three steps later and she was standing in front of the hatch. Taking a deep breath, she leaned forward. Her eyes went wide.

“Jesus, what the hell is that?”

“That, Mrs Dennison, is an imp. Quite harmless in most instances, but can still give a nasty bite.”

Sun stared into the cell. The interior was almost like a habitat at a zoo. It was a vast oblong, stretching fifty feet backwards in a widening arc. Sun spotted a rock cave and a small pond amongst artificial reeds and rubbery plant life.

The creature inside was almost human, childlike in its stature. What made it decidedly inhuman was its pink, glistening skin which was more like that of an earthworm than a man. A ropey tail swished behind the creature and a pair of cranial bumps rose behind its ears like stunted horns.

The creature realised that it was being watched through the hatch and returned Sun’s gaze. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw its ears prick up and its tail begin to wag faster.

Is it pleased to see me?

Sun stood aside so that Andy could take a look. His reaction was equally as shocked. As soon as he had seen enough, Jerry took his turn.

“You’re winding me up,” he said. “That’s some kind of animatronic. Either that or you’ve been messing around with nature like that dickhead in Jurassic Park.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t get the reference,” said Kane.

Jerry’s eyes widened. “You never saw Jurassic Park? You’re pulling my leg?”

“If you are referring to a movie then I’m afraid I have to admit to finding little time for such things. The living area of the Spiral has an extensive video library but I’m afraid I am more akin to a good book.”

Jerry huffed. “Jurassic Park was a book first, man.”

“Nevertheless, I’m afraid the reference is lost on me.”

“What about The Avengers? Did you catch that flick yet?”

“Excuse me,” said Andy, interrupting the exchange before it came even more banal. “Can you explain a little more about what you have in there?” You said it’s an imp? As in a little demon?”

Kane nodded his head slowly. His aging eyes had narrowed and the corners of his mouth turned downwards. “I’d have thought you’d be willing to believe in such things by now, Mr Dennison. As for it being a demon, I cannot comment. All I can say is that the dirty little thing is an organic life form and that it was captured several centuries ago. It was housed in Sarajevo until the hostilities there led to the facility becoming compromised.”

“A Sarajevo facility? What the hell were the US government doing there?”

“You misunderstand. The facility did not belong to the United States. It was under the control of the Bosnian government. The society of Deus Manus goes beyond boundaries. It is older even than many of the nations which exist today and has influence exceeding them all. It is a collective of societies, organisations, individuals, and governments, all unified in the quest to capture and contain evil.”

Sun scoffed. “Evil?”

Kane gestured to cell number 9. “I don’t mean the notion of evil—some philosophical debate about the inner nature of man. I mean evil as a living, breathing being like that thing in there. This facility—and hundred others like it—were built to contain the predators that have haunted men’s nightmares since the dawn of time. We are the jailors of nightmares. The Spiral is a giant underground prison; the most maximum-security prison ever built. And there are three hundred and thirty-three others just like it, all over the world. The cells are mostly automated. Food is released from shafts in the ceilings and water is piped in through several taps. Every now and then we have to sedate the inmates while my men…clean up any mess, for want of a better word.”

Jerry slouched against the wall, pulled his leather jacket tight around himself as if he were hoping it would hide him away. “This is heavy. What the frak did Batman sell to me?”

Kane frowned. “Batman? I know who Batman is, but I’m afraid I still do not get the reference.”

Sun sighed. “A guy dressed as Batman sold him drugs. It’s a long story.”

“One I have no time for,” said Kane.

“I want to see inside the other cells,” said Andy. “I want to know everything that you’re keeping down here.”

“How many guests do you have here exactly?” Sun asked, dreading what the answer might be.

“Each subbasement has eighteen cells. They are all mostly full.”

Sun did the math. “You have almost one hundred and eighty creatures held here?”

Kane shook his head. “You’re assuming that occupancy is one per cell.” He pointed back at cell number 9. “Take a closer look.”

Sun went back over to the hatch and peered inside. She waited a moment, but then she saw it.

“There’s more of them in there.”

Inside the habitat, several more imps appeared from amongst the foliage. They were of varying sizes, but all had the same pink skin and swishing tails. They gathered in front of the rock cave and faced the hatch. There were perhaps a dozen of them in total.”

“We let the dirty little things breed,” said Kane. “But we keep their numbers low. Once a year we cull any creatures that are over the thresholds we set. Either that or we use them for our research.”

Sun looked in at the group of childlike creatures and suddenly felt a tug of guilt. “They’re a family?”

Kane folded his bony arms. “You could call it that, I suppose. As much as you would call a dozen rats a family. I’m more inclined to think of them as a pack of vermin. Come on, I’ll show you the next cell.”

The group moved on like a tour group in the world’s most surreal museum. They stopped in front of cell 10 and Kane once again operated the LED panel beside the door.

The hatch opened.

Sun was again the first person to look inside. This time the interior was a blank canvass of grey bedrock. In several places the ground was puckered, rising up into small craters. The whole habitat reminded Sun of the surface of the moon.

I don’t see anything.

Then something caught her eye. It was about twenty feet inside. She adjusted her vision and focused on one of the craters. Something black was lurking inside. The only thing that distinguished it from the shadows was its brief fidgety movement.

Then something from the opposite side of the room scuttled towards the door and took Sun by surprise. She pulled back from the hatch and let out an involuntary yelp.

“You’re perfectly safe,” said Kane. “There are two males inside. The females fight when not kept alone. The main colony is in Moscow. These two were lent to us for scientific study.”

Sun leaned back up against the hatch and peered inside again. The creatures she saw inside were no different to pet shop tarantulas, except thirty times as big. The two jet-black arachnids were the height of a small cow with leg spans longer than a condor’s wings.

The hair on the back of Sun’s neck pricked up.

The two gigantic spiders reared up on their back legs and hissed. A cloud of bristles rose above them, a defensive irritant expelled from their abdomens. Venom dripped from their fangs.

Sun moved away from the hatch. “Why would you want to bring those things here for scientific studies?”

“For an all manner of things,” said Kane. “Anti-venom research is one example. The venom in their fangs is enough to drop an elephant. The females also make nests with silk stronger than any tensile material we know of. Some of our scientists also believe that these creatures may well be the progenitors to all other arachnids; the origin of the species, if you will.”

“You’re kidding me?” said Andy, taking a quick peep inside and then shivering in disgust. “You think these things were around in primordial times?”

“We know they were. Many of the species we have under lock and key have been around for millennia, but we believe some may be even more ancient. Some of the creatures in the lower levels of the Spiral even seem to be immortal. Attempts to euthanize them have failed, so instead we keep them secure; keep them away from the world. The less invasive species we allow some freedom, like the imps for instance, but the others are kept strictly confined. The imps and many of the less aggressive creatures we house here are kept, in many ways, like common zoo animals.”

Jerry tiptoed up against the open hatch and took a glance inside. He quickly moved away, looking extremely pale and feint.

Sun ignored him and kept her focus on Kane. “So why keep them a secret at all, if they’re not dangerous?

“I didn’t say there were not dangerous. I just said ‘less aggressive’. If we revealed a creature like an imp to the world, then questions would be asked about what else we have in secret. We can’t risk it. The original members of Deus Manus were devoted to God. They locked away anything they felt was hellspawn or intrinsically evil. I’m not about to second-guess them. They lived during a time where creatures like this walked the earth, so if they thought the imps were dangerous, then so do I.”

“But that can’t be possible,” said Sun. “There’s no records, no history.”

Kane shrugged his shoulders. “Like I said, the society was created by the world’s most powerful elite; people who not only wrote the history books, but dictated the very direction of civilisation. Humanity matured knowing only what these men allowed it to.”

Sun bristled. “No one has that right. No one has the right to take ownership of history.”

“Yeah,” said Jerry. “Those Deus Anus blokes were bang out of order.”

Kane rolled his eyes at them all. “Like it or not, what we are tasked with here is more ancient and more important than anything else in existence. We are the keepers of humanity and it is our calling to prevent the evil kept inside this hole in the ground from corrupting the modern world. Now, more than ever, it is imperative that our secrets are kept buried.”

“Fine, whatever you say,” said Andy. “Still doesn’t explain why you brought us here. If you want us on your research team, then we politely decline. We’ve got lives to be getting on with.”

“This is not why you are here, Mr and Mrs Dennison. This is just a prelude to prepare you for what you are about to see. The reason you are here is buried deep in subbasement 10. We want you to meet our most recent guest. We think it’s someone you might recognise.”

Andy and Sun glanced at one another anxiously.

Kane motioned back towards the way they had come. Back towards the elevator. “Shall we head down?”

Chapter Six

Subbasement 10 was darker than the floors above. Unlike the rest of the facility, this area had not been recently refurbished. The walls were bare and cracked, with seams of mud pushing through from the surrounding earth. There were armed guards beside every cell door. The uniforms they wore were not military, but more like black-ops, with pouches and utility belts in abundance. The insignia on their upper arm was a golden sword with clouds above it.

Andy rubbed at his temples as he headed down the corridor. He had a headache coming on. What he was seeing down here was not agreeing with him.

Kane glanced back over his shoulder. “What I want to show you is just down here. The cells up ahead are see-through. Six-inch bullet proof glass. It’s imperative that we can see what the guests are doing at all times. They have a tendency to try and escape.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Sun. “You have them locked away hundreds of feet below the ground.”

Kane said nothing. He marched ahead and stopped beside a pair of armed guards. He exchanged pleasantries with the two men while the rest of the group caught up.

“In here,” said Kane. “Take a look.”

Here goes, thought Andy. Time to see what all the fuss is about.

Andy peered through the glass. The cell was nothing but a large white room with a bench.

“I don’t see anything. Did you bring me here just to see a bench?”

Kane cleared his throat. “Look up, Mr Dennison.”

Andy craned his neck and glanced towards the room’s ceiling.

Behind him, Sun gasped. “Oh God.”

Jerry whistled in awe. “It’s a flappy little demon thing. Cute.”

Andy glared at the batling in the cell. It was a mini version of the abomination he and Sun had faced off against three years ago; the thing that had almost killed them both—and had succeeded in killing most of their colleagues. Its flesh was a muddy red colour, matted with course fur. Its arm bore talons while its feet ended in goat-like hoofs.

Andy’s eyes narrowed at the creature. “Bub…”

“I understand that you have met before,” said Kane.

Andy nodded, not taking his eyes of the object of his hatred for a split-second. “After Samhain was blown up, Bub exploded into dozens of these things which flew off in all directions.”

“All perfect replicas of Bub,” Sun added. “Such a thing should be impossible for any living thing, but we discovered that Bub was able to manipulate his own DNA.”

“As well as that of other living things,” Andy added.

The batling hovered eight feet above the ground. It had the same malevolent, sideways-blinking eyes as its creator and gave off the same barnyard smell, even through the thick glass.

Andy cleared his throat and gnashed his teeth. Then he turned to face Kane. “You have to destroy this thing.”

“That would be premature.”

“Why? This thing is pure evil. Keeping it alive is just inviting disaster.”

Kane fiddled with his shirt cuffs momentarily and then folded his arms across his narrow chest. “As I understand it, there are many more of these things running around out there. Better that we learn what we can from this one so that we may have a better chance of destroying them all.”

Andy returned his gaze to the batling. The batling glared right back at him. “You’re making a mistake.”

“No. No, he’s not.” It was Sun speaking. Andy was surprised she did not agree with him. “We need to be smart about this,” she said. “We don’t know what Bub was planning when he turned into these things and flew away. Killing one would achieve nothing with so many more out there. What’s more important is finding out what these things are up to, and where to find the others.”

Andy closed his eyes and wished to be somewhere else, anyplace else but there. But it would be burying his head in the sand to not admit that his wife was right. He had no choice but to be there.

“So what’s the plan?” he asked Kane. “What are you going to do with this thing?”

Kane shrugged. “Find out all we can. Sun can tackle the situation from a biological standpoint; study the creature’s physiology et cetera. We need you to try and communicate with it. Use your knowledge of Bub to try and find out as much as possible about what these ‘batlings’ are planning.”

“What about me?” Jerry asked.

Kane glared at him. “You stay out of the way and try not to give me any reason to shoot you.”

Andy glanced at Jerry and smiled. The kid was here whether anybody liked it or not. It would be wise to make the best of it. “You can be here for moral support,” he said.

Jerry smiled. “I can do that. I can, like, hold the test tubes and stuff for you.”

“Yeah, whatever works for you.”

“So when do we get started?” asked Sun.

“As soon as you meet the other members of the team,” Kane replied.

Sun started heading towards the elevator. “Let’s do that now. Sooner we get started the better.”

“You’re going the wrong way,” said Kane. “The people working on subbasement 10 are housed on the same level rather than level 4 with the rest of the facility. They need to be able to work closely and efficiently with their subjects.”

Andy smiled. “It’s more than that, though, isn’t it? Level 10 is separate so that you can blow it if anything escapes, along with any staff that may have been compromised.”

“I’m afraid we learned some difficult lessons after Samhain, Mr Dennison. You are, of course, correct. In case of an uncontainable security breach, the entire level is rigged to fill with concrete, as are all the over levels above—but level 10 is self-contained to make a full-quarantine easier to achieve. Anything alive down here will be fossilised within minutes of the concrete setting, while the floors above would remain unaffected. The elevator shaft would also be filled in and sealed. Of course, there’s also the good old option to self-destruct the entire facility.”

Andy winced.

“Can I take it that both of you are staying then?” Kane asked.

Andy shrugged. “Like either of us have a choice. We’re here, so let’s get to work.”

“Very good.” Kane led them further down the corridor. They passed by a whole host of monstrosities along the way. There was a hairy, snarling beast that looked a lot like the classical description of a werewolf, and a vile creature that was equal parts snake and eagle. The body was like a large bird of prey but its neck and head were serpentine, stretching out at least three feet into the air.

There was also a humanoid creature that could have easily passed for a man if not for its dislocated lower jaw and dagger-like teeth sticking out through the torn flesh of its cheeks. Its eyes were jet-black, with pupils so large that the whites were not at all visible. Its fingertips were barbed like fish hooks. And it glared at them with malice and utter hatred as they walked by its cell.

Really don’t want to be trapped in a room with that thing.

Up ahead, the transparent cells were coming to an end. A heavy steel door—like a bank vault—punctuated the conclusion of the corridor. As Andy passed by the final cell he glanced hesitantly inside, wondering what horror he would see next, but he was surprised to find a perfectly normal-looking, middle-aged man. The handsome male was dressed in jeans and a long grey overcoat and nodded to Andy as he passed by.

“How’s it hanging there, Governor?”

Andy stopped and studied the prisoner. The man had messy brown hair that fell down to his shoulders and a carpet of jet-black stubble clung to his face.

“Nay seen your face around here before, fella. You a newbie?”

As competent with languages as Andy was, he struggled to keep up with the stranger’s rapid-fire Irish accent. “I, erm, just got here,” Andy said. “Who are you?”

“My friends call me Lucas. Thrilled to make your acquaintance, so I am.”

The way the man said ‘thrilled’ sounded like ‘trilled’.

“A pleasure,” said Andy. “So, what are you…in for?”

“We’re not sure,” Kane interrupted. “Lucas here has the distinction of being unlike any of the other residents housed here.”

“Why’s that?” Sun asked.

“He’s here voluntarily. We never captured him. About a week ago he just appeared inside this cell and has been here ever since. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep. He’s not even organic as far as our tests can find.”

Sun cleared her throat and took a second look at the man inside the cell. “Not organic. What do you mean?”

“I mean his blood tests give no DNA, his flesh samples are inconclusive, and his hair follicles contain no proteins. It’s almost like he doesn’t exist. Except here he is.”

Andy stared at Lucas. Lucas stared back with an amiable smile on his face. There was nothing to suggest the man was anything more than a forty-year old human.

“We brought you here because of the batling,” said Kane. “But this man right here…well, of all the mysteries the Spiral contains, he’s the biggest.”

Chapter Seven

While Sun and Andy went to meet their new colleagues, Jerry was escorted to his room by a dick with a gun, who practically frogmarched him to the room in which he now stood. The whole experience had left Jerry feeling abused and upset.

Goddamn bullies. Story of my life.

At least the new digs were pretty sweet. The living quarters they’d provided him were almost as big as the two-bedroom flat he used to share with his mother back at home, back before she’d…

Got to stop thinking about the past, dude. Dwelling has got me in enough trouble already. I can’t even go back home because of what I did.

Still, I landed on my feet with this place. I came to America for Comic Con and ended up in a real life episode of the X-Files. I’m like a cooler Fox Mulder.

And that Italian chick would make a pretty good Scully.

Except that she’s married. And way out of my league.

And old.

Jerry decided to take a load off. The come-down from the drugs he’d taken had left him feeling groggy and sick. It was an experience he wasn’t in a hurry to repeat. Taking drugs had been a stupid idea in the first place, but if his life was soon to be over he had thought, what the hell, might as well try it.

He lay down on the room’s plush double bed and stared up at the ceiling, his vision spinning slightly and adding to his nausea.

This is so messed up.

I’m alone in a strange country and now I’ve ended up stumbling across something top secret. They’re not going to let me leave; not after what I’ve seen. I don’t even want to think about those giant spiders. Jeez!

They have the entire freaking cast of Hammer Horror down here in the flesh. I swear one of those things I saw was a goddamn werewolf.

No, no way will they’ll let me go after seeing all this.

Even if they do, all I have to look forward to is getting nicked by the coppers as soon as I set foot back home.

My life is over one way or another.

Jerry reached into his back pocket and pulled out his tatty nylon wallet. He plucked a photograph from one of the sleeves and looked at it. It was a picture of his best friend, Ben.

Wonder what you’re up to, buddy. Hope you’re okay.

Jerry knew that his friend was not okay, though. Not after what had happened.

Wouldn’t be surprised if you never speak to me again. I really wish you were here, though, ‘cus this place would blow your mind. All of the times we spent discussing horror movies in your dad’s old video shop and I end up in a place like this.

Jerry felt a tear well up in the corner of his eye. He quickly sprang up off the bed to keep it from taking root. The key was to occupy himself. Sitting still or lying down would let in all of his regret, and there was way too much of it for a coward like him to bear.

Maybe I deserve whatever happens to me. If a bunch of muppets-in-black knock on my door and make me ‘disappear’, maybe I’ll finally find some peace again. Maybe I’ll manage to get some bloody sleep finally.

Even if it ends up being permanent.

Jerry located the suite’s bathroom and stripped naked for a shower. He hoped the hot water would burn the bad memories right out of his head.

But he knew better.

Chapter Eight

Kane led Andy and Sun into a vast room. Like the ‘Nucleus’ upstairs it was full of desks, computers, and various hi-tech equipment that seemed to do nothing useful other than blink and beep. Andy found it mightily impressive.

Wonder if it all runs on Windows Illuminati.

Kane strolled over to a large conference desk taking up the centre of the room and pulled up a seat for Sun. She sat down on it. Andy found himself a chair beside her. He looked around, observing the room in closer detail.

There were several offices that led off from the central room. People in lab coats occupied some of them, but most lay empty. At the far side of the room, chatting in a huddle, were three men wearing black-op suits and shouldering mean-looking assault rifles that didn’t seem to fit any design Andy knew of. Behind them was a door that read: LABS 1-4.

“This is the conference room,” said Race. “This is where you and the team will share notes and make use of the more basic research equipment. Each member of staff also has their own private office, but the efforts here are mostly communal. In other words, everyone shares what they know with each other rather than sitting on information to further their own agenda. There is no individual glory here—it’s all about the mission.

There are four fully-equipped labs down here, to which everyone has access, under the supervision of Doctor Gorman. I am in charge here, but beyond that everybody has their own autonomy within their own specific area of research. You take orders from me and no one else. That needs to be very clear.”

Andy and Sun said nothing, but both nodded.

“Okay then.” Kane leaned forward to reach an intercom unit set into the middle of the desk. He pressed a button and said, “Can I have everyone in the conference room, please?”

They sat in silence for a few moments while people started to funnel out of the adjacent offices. Each of the newcomers pulled up a chair at the large desk. It began to resemble a meeting of the joint-chiefs.

“Okay,” said Kane. “I think that’s everyone. Allow me to start the introductions.” He nodded to a large Hispanic man in one of the black ops suit. The guard had a long raggedy beard like Rasputin and biceps the size of melons. Strapped to his chest was a blinking radio unit. Two equally-large black men flanked him on either side. “This is Sergeant Steve Rimmer, head of Spiral security. Either side of him are his team leaders, Mike Handler and Tyler West. Any security breaches will be dealt with by Rimmer and his team.”

Rimmer nodded but never spoke. Handler and West both said hello and smiled.

“Next we have Dr Lesly Chandelling who is our lead scientist and head of IT. Any tissue samples you need analysing will go through him and his team of assistants. Likewise, any questions about our computer systems here should be directed his way.”

“Glad to be working with you,” said the doctor warmly. He was a skinny, weasel-featured man, but wore a friendly smile. “I understand that you were involved in the Samhain project. I’d be very interested in sharing notes.”

Kane waved a hand, “We can get to that later, Lesly,” and then moved on. “Our head of medicine is Dr Thandi Gorman. She has overall control of the labs and will dispense any drugs that you may need for personal use or for the care of the various guests we have on this floor. She is also quite the expert with our IT systems here, but try not to bother her unless absolutely necessary. She runs a tight ship so I suggest you get on her good side.”

The woman appraised them from behind horn-rim spectacles and seemed to frown at what she saw. “Do any of you have any medical conditions I need to know about? Diabetes for instance. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Sun and Andy shook their heads.

“Then I don’t expect to see very much of you.”

Kane clasped his hands in front of him. “Thank you, Thandi. Finally, let me introduce Gwen Nester. She works in the library which is located to the east side of this room.”

A young redhead directly opposite Andy gave a warm smile. “Call me Nessie. I’m the facility’s expert on ancient theology and belief structures. The boring stuff.”

“You’re very young,” Andy noted.

Nessie shrugged her shoulders but didn’t seem to take offence at the comment. “I’m afraid there’s very little interest in cultures from three thousand years ago. There’s a limited talent pool to pick from. My predecessor sadly passed away this year. I’m almost as new to all this as you are, but I have devoted my entire adult life to studying the ancient world, so I promise you I know more than enough to be of use. Plus I used to watch The History Channel obsessively, back when it used to, you know, actually air history programmes.” Nessie cleared her throat. “That was a joke, by the way.”

Andy laughed, but he wondered if Nessie might be a liability. She was late-twenties and brimming with positivity, but neither of those things were a positive in an environment like this.

On the other hand, it may be useful to have a pair of unjaded eyes looking at the bigger picture.

“I’m very pleased to meet you all,” said Andy.

“As am I,” Sun agreed, before asking a question. “Has work already begun on analysing the batling?”

There was a collection of confused frowns around the table. Kane addressed the confusion. “Mr and Mrs Dennison refer to our new arrival as a ‘batling’.”

Nessie nodded and looked amused. “As good a name as any. I was calling it flying goat thingy. The official channels have been referring to it as a ‘faustling”’

“Have you discovered anything about it yet?” Sun asked.

“Not much,” said Nessie. “It was captured in the woods above the entry hatch a few days ago.”

The head of security, Rimmer, pulled at his scraggly beard and sniffed. “The weekly perimeter sweep discovered a pile of bodies in the clearing above. Dead deer, foxes, stray cats, squirrels. It was as if some super-predator has started wiping out all of the local fauna. When one of our security teams went out to investigate they found the ‘batling’ feasting on the carcass of a racoon. They opened fire and tore the thing to pieces before bringing the remains underground. Within the hour the thing had completely healed and come back to life. Our subsequent attempts to harm it have resulted in temporary injuries at best.”

“Bub could regenerate,” Andy said. “He exploded into a dozen of those batlings. Stands to reason they have the same ability to heal as he did.”

Dr Gorman nodded. There was hint of distain on her face, a slight narrowing of her eyes and downturn of her pointed nose. “That much is quite obvious. We need to discover the source of the ability, though. If we can harness the ability to heal instantly we can transform mankind. Just think of a world without injury, without disability. We would be the saviours of the world.”

Sun rolled her eyes. “You don’t think people tried figuring that out at Samhain? They (had?) Bub locked up for nigh on a century and gained nothing from him. It’s folly to even try. Stopping him should be our only priority.”

“The Samhain facility was a relic run by degenerates,” Gorman hissed. “What we have here is the very best technology and the very best minds.”

“Okay,” said Sun. “Then, again I ask what have you learned so far?”

Gorman almost sneered at the question. “Nothing conclusive yet, but tests are ongoing. It’s just a matter of time until-”

“So you have nothing.”

Gorman folded her arms.

“We know that the thing does not sleep,” said Dr Chandelling, scratching at his pockmarked chin. “We know that it feels pain but it does not die or even get sick. We bombarded it with a few simple strains of flu and chickenpox. It contracted neither.”

“You can try every virus you have,” said Andy. “Nothing will have any effect. The only thing we found to hurt Bub was radiation—and even that didn’t finish the job.”

Dr Chandelling nodded eagerly. “Yes, yes. I read the debriefing after Samhain. I heard that you hit the creature known as ‘Bub’ with a huge dose of rads. Again, I would be very excited to hear your experiences first-hand.”

“It’s not something I’m particularly comfortable talking about,” said Andy, “but if my wife has no objections, I suppose we’re pretty much obligated to share what we know. All I’ll say right now is that what started in Samhain was just the beginning. That batling you have locked up is part of something bigger. We need to figure out what Bub’s game plan is, before it’s too late.”

Gorman scoffed, rolled her eyes to the ceiling and then back down again. “You’re over-reacting. Deus Manus has kept watch over thousands of dangerous creatures for thousands of years. This ‘batling’, as you so crassly call it, is just another beast that needs caging. We are more than equipped to handle it.”

“If your superiors really believed that, then we wouldn’t be here,” said Sun. “It’s obvious we wouldn’t be if it were up to you.”

Gorman blinked slowly. “I don’t deny I think your presence here is unwarranted. It takes many years to be inducted into the Order. Many, such as Dr Nester here, are groomed since college to be inducted. Bringing in outsiders threatens the very integrity of what we’re doing here. We cannot afford to have nosy spectators with big mouths.”

Andy leaned forward on the table like an angry cop doing an interrogation, except he was the one being scrutinised. “Look, Samhain was years ago, and neither my wife nor I have said word-one about any of it. If we can stay quiet about the government keeping the closest thing to Satan under lock and key, then I think we can be trusted to keep quiet about this.”

“Perhaps,” Gorman conceded. “But what about that straggler you brought in with you? The English screw-up.”

“How do you even know about him?” Kane asked. “He was taken almost immediately to the dormitories. He passed through here for but a minute and you were in your lab.”

Gorman rolled her eyes. “It’s my job to know what’s going on around here, Franklin.”

“No, Thandi, it is not,” said Kane. “That is my job, and you may address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘General’. I think you should go and wait in my office so that we can have a frank discussion about it.”

Gorman went wide-eyed, as if she could not believe she was being scolded. She jumped up from her seat, spun around and marched away with her heels clicking on the tiled floor.

Andy sighed. This is going to be a lot of fun.

“What’s with the guy with the Irish accent?” Sun asked, obviously paying no attention to Gorman’s childish hostility. “The one whom you said just appeared in one of the cells.”

Nessie sat up in her seat and grinned. “He’s very interesting; fascinating, in fact. He won’t give anything away, but he’s like nothing we’ve ever seen before. Every test we run on him comes up blank. No DNA, no proteins, not even any carbon traces. He doesn’t eat, sleep, or…you know, go to the toilet. He’s just there, chatting away happily to whoever will listen. He does keep asking for a pint, though. I’m assuming he means beer. We don’t have any.”

Andy rubbed a fingertip against the bridge of his nose and had a quick think. “Don’t you find it a bit weird? That pretty much the same week you catch the batling, you also have a mysterious, none-human stranger turn up?”

“It is indeed a coincidence,” said Chandelling. “But we can find no correlation between the two. The batling is most certainly organic. The Irishman is something else entirely. As my colleague so rightly said, he’s most fascinating.”

“Well,” said Andy. “When I get to work, I think I’d like to start with this ‘Lucas’ rather than the batling. Something doesn’t smell right to me. The man in that cell is here for a reason. And I want to know what it is.”

Chapter Nine

“Who do they think they are?” Dr Gorman said as she paced the floor of Kane’s office on level 2. The carpet beneath her feet was a deep pile and her heels caught every few steps, adding to her frustration. “I’ve dedicated the best part of ten years of my life to this facility. Is this any way to repay me? Letting outsiders come in an undermine me? Who does Kane think he is, chastising me in front of them? Without me his bloody labs would grind to a halt. It’s not like that incompetent fool, Chandelling, could take charge if I decided to leave.

That’s exactly what I should do. I should leave. With my experience I could work in any lab in the world. I only came here because I mistakenly thought I was doing some good in the world. But that was nothing but a fantasy. This isn’t God’s work. The Spiral is nothing but a prison—and like any prison it is ineffectual and does nothing to change the inmates. All we’re doing is warehousing a bunch of creatures that could be of real benefit if we actually did something with them other than keep them in cages.

This whole place is a relic of old fashioned thinking. A bunch of flashy new computers doesn’t change that.

I should have faced my demons long ago. Maybe if I had I would be at Johns Hopkins now, treating cancer and finding cures, instead of deep down in this cesspit where nothing of worth ever happens.

“Thandi?” Kane entered the office and moved over to his desk. “Please, take a seat.” He gestured to the chair opposite.”

Gorman dumped herself down, folded her arms.

Kane leaned forward on his desk and sighed. “Look, Thandi. You are a valued member of this team and probably the smartest person here.”

Gorman blinked. She wasn’t about to be swayed by flattery. She knew she was the smartest person at the facility—she didn’t need an antique General to tell her that.

“But if we have guests at this facility then it is our obligation to welcome them and to accommodate their needs.”

Gorman huffed.

A twinge of frustration—perhaps even anger—flashed across Kane’s face. “The Dennison’s are here at the request of the Director of Homeland Security, who may I remind you is the Grand Registrar of the Order, like his father, and grandfather before him. We are sworn to follow his instructions to the letter. That is a promise you made, Thandi. Am I lying?”

Gorman shook her head.

“So if you meant the oath when you swore it, you will work alongside the Dennisons and avoid acrimony. But most of all, you will never again question my authority or circumvent my command of this facility. Is that clear, Dr Gorman?”

Gorman breathed through her nose, gave no answer.

“Is. That. Clear?”

Gorman jumped up from her chair and raised her voice. “Yes! Yes, it’s clear, General. I understand. I understand that my time here has amounted to absolutely nothing and that all I really am here is a lowly employee…a flunkie.”

Kane remained sitting. He kept his tone calm. “No, Dr Gorman. You are an ordained knight of the most secretive organisation in existence with access to secrets beyond most people’s imagination. But, as always, you are free to give that up. You can retire your membership and leave any time you want.”

Gorman folded her arms. “Maybe I will.”

Maybe I will right now.

“I advise you not to do that, however,” said Kane, “because your commitment here has not gone un-noted. I’m an old man, Thandi, and there are not as many Generals to replace me as there once was. The time of personnel-laden wars is over. Drones and computers have replaced flesh and courage. The Order does not have access to the human resources it once did.”

“What are you getting at?”

“You heard about Oklahoma? Their new Head of Facility?”

Gorman sighed, took her seat again. She shrugged her shoulders. “Dr Gary? Yes, I’m aware of him. So what?”

Kane blinked slowly. “Yes, Doctor Gary. The order is changing its policies. It is no longer a given that a facility head position is only available to those who have served. Before Dr Gary was promoted, he was doing your job.”

“Are you saying that I could be in charge here?”

Kane nodded. “I am saying that you most likely will be in charge when I’m gone. But only if you show that you can follow orders and respect the chain of command. The Senior Wardens won’t accept someone questioning them.”

Gorman sighed. Then she nodded. “I understand. I wasn’t thinking about the bigger picture. I allowed my ego to take over. I felt like I wasn’t being given the credit I was due.”

“The thing about credit, Dr Gorman, is that it takes a long time to accrue but can be lost in a heartbeat.”

Gorman nodded. “I won’t question you again.”

“Good. Now get out of my office.”

Gorman stood up and hurried for the door.

“And Dr Gorman,” Kane said before she exited.

Gorman turned around. “Yes?”

“I wouldn’t worry about the Dennisons being a threat to the integrity of the Order. My orders are to accommodate them while they conduct their investigations. Once they are concluded, it’s up to me how to deal with them afterwards.”

Dr Gorman said nothing. She just smiled and left the room.

Chapter Ten

Breakfast was as over-the-top as everything else in the Spiral and Andy’s stomach had been overwhelmed by the selection offered by the cafeteria buffet on level 3. Through the strange anomaly only possible at breakfast buffets, he had somehow ended up with a bowl of muesli, a plate of eggs, several rashers of bacon, and a banana. It was a strange selection, but he wasted no time in digging into it all.

Sun had opted for a lighter breakfast of an apple and two slices of toast.

Both of them had slept well; the bed in their suite being even softer than the one they had been given in the Coronado the night before. Now that a new day had begun, they were both ready to get to work.

“I can’t believe how different this place is to Samhain,” said Sun. “They have fresh fruit.”

Andy nodded. Samhain had fed its staff from two large freezers, with fresh deliveries being sparse. “I guess things have changed,” he said, wolfing down a rasher of perfectly-cooked bacon. “Now the government hides its secrets in plain sight. They probably bring supplies in here every day and just gag any attempt to bring attention to it. The Press may as well have their pay checks signed directly by the US treasury these days.”

Sun bit off a corner of toast. “Forever the cynic. This place is pretty grandiose, though. It must have cost billions. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Andy shovelled in a mouthful of eggs and swallowed. “Let’s just hope they spent it wisely.”

Jerry came over with a plateful of sausages and a tall glass of orange juice. The leather jacket was gone, but the stripy, blue and white soccer shirt remained. He took a seat at their table and noticed Sun appraising his large stack of pork-links. He shrugged. “I’m cutting out carbs,” he said, before tucking in like a starving caveman.

Andy chuckled. So did Sun.

After devouring several of the dozen sausages, Jerry wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and sipped his juice. Then he pulled a face. “These sausages are well-tiny. The ones in England are big and fat, much nicer.”

Andy frowned. “Sorry, I’ll be sure to pass along your complaint to our tourist board.”

“Are you missing home, Jerry?” Sun asked.

He looked down at the remaining sausages on his plate and shrugged his shoulders. “I suppose. I always wanted to come to America, and it’s great and all…”

“But there’s no place like home.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. I just feel like I’m never going to see it again.”

Andy put down his knife and fork and laced his fingers together in front of him, elbows on the table. “Is it true that you’re wanted by the police back in the UK?”

Jerry’s gaze snapped upwards and made eye-contact with Andy. “You know about that?”

Andy nodded. “Want to tell us about it?”

“Not really. I robbed some money from some tosser who had it coming. Enough said.”

“But look at all the trouble you’re in,” said Sun. “Aren’t your parents worried about you?”

Jerry sneered and picked up his fork. He started shovelling more sausages into his mouth and swallowing them down in loud gulps. When he was done he let out a long sigh. “I don’t have any parents. My mom died last year of lung cancer and my dad…my dad is the ‘tosser’ I stole from.”

Andy raised his eyebrows. “Wow, really?”

“I’m sorry about your mother,” said Sun. “You must really miss her.”

Jerry nodded, his eyes glistening. “She was the only person that ever really cared about me—well, her and my best friend, Ben. But now he won’t even talk to me after what I did.”

“Why not? What did you do?” asked Andy.

“Never mind. I don’t want to get into it. What are you guys up to today?”

Sun smiled, seemingly content not to push the subject. “We’re heading back down to level 10,” she said. “Did you want to tag along?”

Andy shot Sun an irritated stare, but she ignored it.

What is she doing? Last thing we need is this kid shadowing us while we work. He’ll just get in the way.

Jerry’s face lit up. “Yeah, I would really like to. The muppets-in-black won’t let me go anywhere on my own. It would be really cool to have something to do.”

Andy cleared his throat to gain the floor. “What we’re doing is going to be very dangerous, Jerry. You need-”

“I won’t be any trouble,” Jerry spluttered. “I’ll do whatever you tell me to. Just let me come. You said I could help.” He stared at Andy for what seemed like ages and then said, “Please, man. I need this.”

Andy sighed. “Okay, fine, but don’t get in the way. Kane won’t mess around. Give him reason and he’ll make life very hard for you. Probably even shoot you.”

Jerry said nothing. He just smiled and nodded.

“Okay,” said Sun. “Looks like our new research team is ready to go. Let’s head downstairs.”

They left the cafeteria and headed down to level 10 via the large elevator. As they walked, they met General Kane in the corridor. He was standing outside one of the cells and glaring at whatever was inside. At one point he even stabbed his finger against the glass and raised his voice.

What’s he up to?

Kane saw them coming and stood to attention. “Ah, Mr and Mrs Dennison. Good to see you up and about so early. Shows a good work ethic. And Mr Preston, am I to understand that you will be accompanying them?”

“If that’s okay,” said Jerry. “I promise not to get in the way.”

“Just remember what I said and behave yourself. Anything you do, I will hold the Dennison’s accountable for. Bear that in mind.”

Jerry looked down at his shoes.

Andy glanced inside the nearby cell—cell number 5. It belonged to the werewolf creature. The animal seemed to be glaring intently at Kane, letting out a guttural snarl.

“What were you doing when we got here?” Andy asked Kane. “Is there anything we should know about the creature in this cell?”

Kane turned and glared into the cell again. He prodded his finger at the glass and the werewolf snarled louder. “Me and Fido here have a history. When I first started at the Spiral I made the mistake of going inside his enclosure to take some samples.” He rolled up his left shirt cuff to reveal a gnarled streak of scar-tissue from his elbow to his wrist. “Not a mistake I ever made again.”

“Is that thing really a werewolf?” Sun asked.

“The closest thing there is, I suppose. He’s the last of his kind, so it won’t be long until werewolves really are a just a figment of people’s imagination.”

Jerry moved up closer against the glass. He looked inside at the snarling beast. “He’s the last one?”

“Yes. There used to be more, but they grow old and die eventually. This one just turned eighty last month. Another thirty, forty years and he’ll be dead and buried.”

“That’s horrible,” said Jerry. “Why haven’t you bred them?”

“We don’t breed the creatures on level 10. They are too dangerous. They deserve to be exterminated. If I had my way, this thing would have been put down like the dog it is right after he attacked me.” Kane moved up closer to the glass and knelt down so that his eyes were level with the creature’s. “You hear that, Fido? Once you’re gone, your whole entire race will be finished. No more mongrels like you.”

The beast growled.

Andy cleared his throat. “Is there somewhere we can find you, General?”

Kane straightened up and adjusted his shirt. “My office is on level 2 but you can find me just about anywhere.” He reached into his pocket and brought out two navy blue disks. They looked like a pair of rubber bath plugs. “Take these,” he said. “They will allow you limited access to the LED control panels. Just press them to the thumb scanners. If you need me, just access the intercom function on any of the screens.”

Andy and Sun took the rubber disks and pocketed them.

Jerry flapped his arms. “What, no love for the J-man?”

“Son, you shouldn’t have even seen what you have seen. Just consider yourself lucky to be a spectator.”

“I prefer the term ‘watcher’,” Jerry said. “Has a nice ring to it. Jeremy Preston is…The Watcher.”

“Call yourself whatever you wish, Mr Preston. Just make sure that you remain under Mr and Mrs Dennison’s supervision. Or you will be Jeremy Preston…in trouble.”

Jerry rolled his eyes. “That was lame.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” said Sun quickly.

Kane sighed irritably. “Yes, see that you do.” With that he marched away double-time.

Andy looked into the cell. The werewolf had stopped snarling and had padded away towards the back of the cell. There was a bundle of blankets and what looked like some rubber chew toys there.

“Dude was a bit of a dick to Wolfie,” said Jerry. “Not surprised he chomped on that old fart. Don’t blame him for being grouchy when they lock him up like Hannibal lector and tell him that his whole race is about to become extinct. That shit was cold.”

Sun nodded. “I agree it was a little uncomfortable to watch.”

Andy shrugged his shoulders. “The guy’s been here eighteen-years. Who knows what these animals have been responsible for in that time. Maybe everything kept here really is evil. We only just got here, so how informed can we really be?”

Sun scoffed. “Evil? What like that family of tiny imps upstairs? I would be surprised if they were any more evil or dangerous than a fox or badger. They’re not evil, they’re just animals. Animals that the church once decided it didn’t like the look of and shoved underground. Wouldn’t be the first time the Catholic Church buried something.”

The door at the end of the corridor opened and Dr Chandelling hurried through it. He waved a hand at them excitedly as he jogged towards them. “Ah, you’re all here. Wonderful. Eager to get started, I’ll bet.”

Sun waved back. “Hello, doctor.”

“Please, call me Lesly. Do you have your access fobs yet?”

Andy pulled the blue rubber disk from his pocket and examined it. “If you mean this thing, then, yeah, the General just gave them to us.”

“Right before he started tormenting Wolfie,” said Jerry. “I think that guy is more of a cat person.”

Dr Chandelling frowned, then glanced inside the cell. “Yes, General Kane has a somewhat troubled relationship with our resident lycanthrope. Working in the Spiral can place a strain on the strongest of men, but that’s a discussion for another day. Were you still intending to speak with the Irishman first, before the batling?”

Andy nodded. “We’re heading there now. He’s still in the cell at the end of the corridor?”

“He certainly is. Come on, I’ll take you folks over.”

They headed down the corridor towards the door where Dr Chandelling had entered. Inside the final cell, cell 18, the Irishman, Lucas, stood up against the glass, almost like he was expecting them.”

“Hello, Clarice,” he said as they approached. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Very cute,” said Andy. “Does all of this amuse you? You like being locked up?”

Lucas smiled. “Who says I’m locked up?”

Andy folded his arms. “You can leave any time you want?”

Lucas nodded. “I could be anywhere on Earth. I chose to be here.”

“Why?” asked Andy. “Why are you here?”

Lucas grinned ear to ear. “I’m here to see you, Andrew.”

Chapter Eleven

Kane sat down in his office and poured himself a whiskey. He always enjoyed having guests at the Spiral, it broke up the monotony of seeing the same old faces day in day out. But usually the guests were members of Deus Manus from other facilities.

Kane could not deny that he was concerned by the presence of the English boy. Not only was he a foreign national, but he was unreliable and of no use to anyone. They couldn’t induct him into the Order (the usual way of dealing with anybody unfortunate enough to stumble upon things they shouldn’t have) or trust him in any way. If push came to shove, Rimmer’s security detail would have to deal with the boy. It was too much of a risk to ever let Jeremy Preston leave.

The employees at the Spiral were allowed to leave freely outside of their shift hours and during vacations, but they were sworn to secrecy and were usually given some grand fiction to give their families about why they worked away from home. It was really up to them what cover they used when leaving the base, so long as it stood up and was never questioned.

Kane had not left the facility once in many years.

His work had long ago consumed him. The world outside had moved on and modernised to a point that he no longer recognised it. The last time he had ventured outside he had visited his niece in Anaheim. It had been horrible.

People had changed. Everyone from children to grandparents now walked around with chirping phones attached to their heads. Computers had invaded the home of every family and nobody spoke to one another anymore. Even the roads had gone bad; clogged up with insane drivers honking their horns and barging in front of one another. No. No, thank you. Kane no longer wanted to be a part of that world. He was meant for higher things, positions of quiet honour. He was meant to be right where he was, in the Spiral, doing God’s work.

Opus Dei.

Kane grabbed the phone on his desk and dialled an outside line. The call went through to his counterpart at the Tallahassee facility.

“Kane, good to hear from you, old friend. How are things your end?”

“Good to hear you, too, Robson. Things are just fine over here. I have a couple of outsiders I’m having to accommodate for a few days, but you know me, nothing I can’t handle.”

“What about your unexpected guest? The Irish guy. Any news?”

“No. There’s nothing to report. He’s as chatty and harmless as the day he appeared in his cell, but hasn’t caused any problems. Obviously he’s here for a reason, but it’s still unclear at this point. The Irishman is not why I’m calling though. I wanted to check in with you about the faustling—or the ‘batling’ as my people have now taken to calling it. Not the one we have here; the one you have at your site.”

“It’s still here. Level 10. Safe and sound.”

Kane slouched back in his chair, switched the phone from one side to the other. “You hear from Tulsa and Vancouver?”

“Yeah. They still have their faustlings safe and secure, too. I hear that England’s got one now as well.”

Kane lurched forwards. “The Kent facility? That makes more than a dozen sites now after Chile finding one in the hills of Santiago. What are these things up to?”

“I don’t know, old buddy. I hear you have the survivors of Samhain with you. To tell you the truth the rest of us are all relying on you for answers. I’ve been trying to get a hold of that other survivor of Samhain, Dr Belgium, something-or-other. Guy seems to have fallen off the grid. You’re the only one with any kind of information on these things, thanks to your guests.”

Kane sighed. “I’m not sure I’ll get anything useful from them. Samhain was a disaster and the Dennisons were partly responsible. I don’t have much faith in their abilities.”

“Still, you have a better chance than the rest of us. It’s clear that these things are converging on our facilities. What do you think they want, General?”

Kane rubbed at his chin and suddenly felt very tired and ancient. “I don’t know, Robson, but I guess we’re going to find out soon enough.”

Chapter Twelve

“Why do you want to talk to me?” Andy asked the Irishman. “How do you even know who I am?”

Lucas was still grinning. “Oh, I know you well enough, lad. I know the very core of you. The brokenness and fear that you’ve carried with you ever since you went down that wretched hole in the desert.”

“You know about Samhain?”

“I know about a lot of things. Everything from where to find the world’s best pint of ale—that would be a little place in Scotland called the Clachaig Inn by the way—to what colour underpants the pope wears.” Lucas chuckled. “Purple, if you can believe it.”

“Fascinating,” said Dr Chandelling.

“But let me guess,” said Andy. “Instead of being helpful and sharing all you know, you’re going to continue being a cryptic asshole instead? Am I right?”

Lucas placed his palms against the glass and leaned forward. “Can’t blame a chappy for wanting a few wee laughs now, can you? The fun is in letting you work things out for yourself, lad. Besides, if I could make things easy for you, I would. But there are certain rules to abide by. What is it those fluffy black fellas say in their delightful little rap songs? Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

Jerry moved up beside Andy and folded his skinny arms across his soccer shirt. “What’s your deal, man? Are you like a ghost or something? Why can’t they run any tests on you? What’s up with that?”

Lucas turned his attention to Jerry and raised a fuzzy eyebrow. “Ah, young Jeremy Preston, and without your friend, Benjamin. What a rarity.”

Jerry took a step backwards. “What? How the hell you know…”

“Don’t worry,” said Lucas. “Ben forgives you. Deep down, he forgives you. The two of you have been through a lot. Even more than the two of you know or remember.”

Jerry just frowned and turned away.

“It’s a valid question,” Sun told Lucas. “What exactly are you? You’re not human.”

“Few things in this place are, my darling sweetheart.”

“So what are you?”

“I am what I am. One of God’s creations, same as you, same as him.”

Dr Chandelling produced a notepad and started making notes. His tongue peeked out the corner of his mouth as he did so.

“There is no God,” said Andy. “I know that, because a few cells away is a creature that disproves him.”

Lucas glanced sideways as if he could see through the cement walls of his cell and into the one adjacent. “You’re making assumptions there, Andy-boy. I know all about that cheeky little monkey, Bub. He had you believe he was a little grander than he really is.”

“So you’re saying Bub isn’t dangerous?”

Lucas huffed. “Oh, no, that egotistical feck will quite happily wipe humanity off the face of the earth. I’m just telling you not to give him more credit than he’s due. There is indeed a God and he is good. He created you and I, just like the bible tells it. But there are other things, too. Things you have within these very walls that were nothing to do with God’s plan. God isn’t the only creator in this world.”

Andy’s eyes narrowed. “Bub…”

“Aye, Bub has his thumbprint on a few of the world’s more unpleasant surprises. People ask why God lets bad things happen to good people. The answer is because this world does not belong to Him. Not completely. There’s a power struggle. A battle between black, white, and every other colour in between.”

“You’re talking gibberish,” said Andy. “What point are you trying to make?”

“My point is that the earth is a warzone—and the enemy is about to play its final gambit. You could think of this as D-day, only this time it’s the Germans who are storming the beaches.”

“And which side are you on?” Sun asked.

Lucas grinned, folded his arms. “Guess you’ll have to wait and see, my dear.”

“Fine, but you still haven’t said what you want with my husband. You said you were here to see him.”

“Aye, I am. Whatever happens deep down in this hole in the ground is going to be on him. I’m here to see the game play out. It will be very entertaining.”

Andy sighed and turned away. “I don’t have time for this guy’s riddles. Let’s go see the reason we’re really here.”

They headed twenty feet down the corridor until they were face to face with the batling. It still flapped about in the air, apparently able to sustain its ability to do so indefinitely. Like Bub, its metabolism was extremely efficient.

“Dennnisssonsss.”

Andy and Sun both looked at one another in surprise. They had not expected the thing to talk.

“You remember us?” Andy asked.

“We will tear you bothhh aparrrt.”

“Yep, he remembers us,” said Sun.

“What exactly happened between you and Bub at Samhain?” Dr Chandelling asked.

Sun shrugged her shoulders. “We tried to blow Bub up, right after melting his face off with radiation. Needless to say, we were unsuccessful.”

“Bet you pissed him off, though,” said Jerry. “Not a complete bust.”

“No, you’re right,” said Andy. “I’m pretty sure we pissed Bub off quite a bit.”

“Pathetic humans.”

Andy stared at the baltling, fought the urge to spit at the glass. “What are you up to? Why are you here? Answer me.”

“There isss a new kingdom beginning. Humanity’s time isss over. Bellum internecinum.”

“What does that mean?” Sun asked. “Bellum…”

“Bellum internecium. It’s latin. It means ‘war of extermination’.”

“Guy thinks he’s a Darlek or something,” Jerry muttered. “Exterminate!”

Andy laughed. “Maybe, but I assure you they’ll be no Doctor to come save us.”

“Your death will be the most painful, Andy Dennissson. We will claw my way down your throat and eat you from the inssside.”

“How does this thing know you?” Jerry asked. “He really seems to dislike you. And why does he keep saying ‘we’ like the Queen.”

“Sun and I have history with its creator,” said Andy. “There used to be one giant version of this thing called Bub. He exploded into a dozen of these smaller versions. They obviously still have Bub’s memories and think of themselves as one.”

“Or maybe they are Bub,” said Sun. “After all the things we saw him do, splitting his consciousness wouldn’t be that surprising.”

Dr Chandelling looked up from his notes. “It’s very interesting. This thing hadn’t spoken until you arrived. The fact that it remembers you makes it clear that this thing has a high level of intellect.”

“It’s as smart as you or I,” said Andy.

“Smarter,” Sun added.

“But damn if it’s not ugly,” said Jerry.

The batling turned towards Jerry and bashed into the glass. It blinked its eyes sideways and growled. “Quiet your tongue, slug.”

Jerry stepped up closer to the glass. “Who you calling a slug, knob head?”

The batling bashed the glass again. Despite its thickness it actually vibrated half-an-inch.

“Interesting,” Dr Chandelling made some more notes on his pad. “The creature seems to exhibit an ego. That means it has self-awareness.”

The battling bashed the glass a third time. “We have awareness of all. We see into your souls, you pathetic worms.” The batling descended slightly, hovered at head height beside Dr Chandelling. “We know about Aaron.”

Chandelling dropped his note pad on the floor. His pockmarked jaw dropped open.

“Doctor, are you okay?” Sun asked.

“Yes, I’m…I’m fine. If you’ll excuse me I have to go and compile this data.” He picked his notepad off the floor and hurried away.

“Tricks and chicanery,” said Andy. He was unimpressed. As much as he knew the danger of the thing before him, he knew that it was just playing games, trying to gain control. “You can bully and manipulate whoever you want, but you’re trapped inside this cage and that is where you will stay until we decide to destroy you. You belong to us now.”

The batling bellowed with laughter. It flittered about in the air, titling and spinning. It finally stabilised and looked out at them with pure hatred in its bestial eyes. “You humans know nothing, but soon you will see. Soon you will understand how meagrely-numbered are your days. The end is coming. You will all die.”

“Bite me,” said Jerry.

Chapter Thirteen

Dr Chandelling holed up in his office and closed the door. The first thing he did was open up his prized StereoMatic 564 record player and put on the soothing tones of Bing Crosby. Lesly had been born in the mid-60s but had grown up to the backdrop of his father’s records. The music of his own generation had lacked the sophistication and class of the decades before—the time before the disco and the drug scene had sullied things.

Lesly sat down at his desk and eased back into the soft Italian leather of his office chair. He budged the mouse on his desk and made his laptop’s screen flicker to life. It displayed the neatly ordered desktop and the background image of Lesly’s class photo from the rundown high school he’d attended in his home town of Canton, Ohio. They had been happy days. The smiling face of his teenage self had no understanding of the perils that his adult life would bring.

How did that thing know about Aaron? Nobody knows. It was kept secret as part of my deal.

Lesly pictured Aaron’s handsome, boyish features and sighed. He missed the young man, wondered what he was up to right now.

Did he leave South Africa like he had always dreamed? Did he make it to England?

Lesly missed the classroom a great deal, missed teaching. Being surrounded by young minds keen to learn was so much better than being amongst the monsters buried inside the Spiral. The things he had seen…

But I’ve been here so long now I don’t think I could ever go back to teaching even if I wanted to. I’m too disconnected from the world. Things have moved on. I’m institutionalised, no different from a prisoner. I may have the freedom to leave, but the knowledge of what is down here makes it impossible to live a normal life. It changes everything.

The Spiral was Lesly’s life now, whether he liked it or not. The life he had once had before was but a morose memory.

But somehow the past had followed him down there.

That thing knows about Aaron.

Somehow the battling knew Lesly’s deepest secret. It knew about the boy he had once passionately loved. The boy he had been forced to abandon in order to keep his career intact.

If the batling tells anyone about it, I might lose my place here. I’ll have to go back out into the world. I can’t survive out there. Not now.

I can’t let that evil monster ruin my life.

I can’t.

Dr Chandelling leaned forward on his desk and began to think.

Chapter Fourteen

While Andy and Sun tried to figure out the batling, Jerry decided to walk up and down the corridor and check out the various creatures imprisoned behind the glass. It was like something out of his wildest fantasies. Of all the films, books, and games he had experienced, they all paled in comparison to the real thing.

He passed by a misshapen creature with long arms and ropey white body hair. It looked a little like what Jerry imagined a yeti to be like, but the text on the LED screen read, Grendaline Historicum.

The most frightening creature on the level was the thing in cell 6 named Nosferatus Hominic. The monster looked mostly like a man but its jaws were more like a shark’s with rows upon rows of lethal dagger-like teeth. Every time Jerry walked past cell 6 the thing glared at him. It moved up to the glass and watched him hungrily. It was like being stalked by a lion and Jerry was glad for the six-inch barrier separating them.

The thing in there definitely wants to play.

In the next cell was Wolfie, or Lycanus Canus as the LED display noted. When the hairy, dog-like creature saw Jerry, it too came closer to the glass, but it wasn’t in a threatening manner like the occupant of cell 6. Wolfie just sat down behind the glass and watched Jerry walk by with interest, its ears pricked up like a border collie’s.

“Hey, there,” Jerry said, stopping in front of the cell. “Do you want to eat me? Or are you just bored?” Jerry stared at the creature and watched as it titled its head inquisitively. “Yeah, I think you’re just bored. How long they had you caged-up down here? Years, I bet.”

The creature let out a soft whine. It was somewhere between a begging sound and one of barely-contained excitement. Jerry noticed Wolfie had a tail and that it was wagging enthusiastically.

“I used to have an old dog named Betsie,” Jerry said, wondering if it was silly talking to a giant werewolf, but not really caring. “My mom was always working and I was at school, so Betsie would get left alone a lot. Whenever I walked through the door she would go completely barmy. She would run around the flat back and forth between the rooms, whining and yelping. When she finally calmed down she would sit on my lap with her legs in the air and I would tickle her belly. I can’t imagine how miserable she would have been if we’d locked her up and just never come home.”

Wolfie titled his head further, tail wagging faster.

“I don’t think it’s right that they have you down here. You don’t look dangerous to me. You may have bitten that General dude, but he’s an asshole anyway.”

To Jerry’s surprise, Wolfie let out a bark. It was the friendly, yippy bark that Betsie had used to make when he would come home from school.

Jerry grinned. “Dude, I would so adopt you if I could. Ben would shit his pants if he saw me walking you around the block. Oh yeah, right. You don’t know about Ben.”

Wolfie spun a circle, wagging his tail, before sitting back down and tilting his head again.

“Ben’s been my best friend since like forever. We grew up together, were in the same class in first school. I think I used to get on his nerves sometimes. He was smart, had his shit together, you know? I’ve always been a bit of a disaster zone. He always stuck by me, though, through thick and thin. Thing is, he wasn’t just my best friend, he was my half-brother. Only he didn’t know about it. My mom had an affair with his dad when they were both really young. Mom got pregnant but he didn’t want anything to do with it—the prick. He was getting married to another woman who was pregnant with Ben at the time. So I grew up without a dad. Through some crazy coincidence, I ended up making friends with Ben on our first day of school. Of course, I didn’t know then that we were brothers. It wasn’t until I was older that my mother came clean—although it took a bottle of vodka and some bad Chinese food to make her tell me. I was shocked at the time, upset, you know? But in the end I decided to keep it to myself. Ben and I were so close anyway. What difference would telling him have made?

Ben’s dad used to treat me like shit whenever he caught me hanging around with Ben. Used to warn him that I would bring him down. Who he was really slagging off, though, was my mom. He had money, a businesses, a nice little family. My mom had me and a crummy council flat. Ben’s dad—my dad—looked down on me and my mom like shit on his shoe from the moment I was born.” Jerry took a moment to catch his breath. He was breathing hard and felt anger in his veins. “When my mom died he didn’t even come to the fucking funeral. I was so mad.” Jerry took a breath and let it out in a bitter chuckle. “I showed him, though.”

Someone stepped out of the elevator at the end of the corridor and startled Jerry. It was a young bird with auburn hair and pale skin. Her red lips seemed to sparkle as she smiled at him.

“Oh, hi. Sorry,” he said. “I know I’m not supposed to be walking around here on my own, but the Dennisons are just down the hall.”

“It’s okay. Don’t see what harm you could do anyway. General Kane is just being overly cautious. Being a hardass is kind of his job.”

“Yeah, I guess. Doesn’t mean I have to like him, though.”

The girl giggled. “I’m Nessie. Pleased to meet you. You must be Jerry?”

Jerry blushed. “Pleased to meet you to. Take it you’ve been warned about me.”

“Nope. Dr Chandelling just told me that the Dennisons had a young Englishman with them. Love your accent by the way. Reminds me of my daddy a little. He was from Belfast. Not the same, I know, but it’s still a nice change from all the American accents I’m used to hearing.”

Jerry smiled. He wanted to say something funny, or at least interesting, but nothing came out.

“So, what are you up to?” Nessie asked him.

Jerry shrugged his shoulders. He wondered if she had heard him talking to the creature in the cell. If she had he was embarrassed. No point hiding it though. Last thing to do in a secret underground government facility was act suspiciously. “I was just chatting with Wolfie here.”

Nessie raised an eyebrow and gave him a lopsided grin that was extremely cute. “Wolfie?”

“Yeah, better than calling him Lycanus Canus.”

“I suppose you’re right. Don’t know who came up with all the names, but they do lack a little bit of colour. Wolfie in here can be quite playful. I smuggle a few chew toys in once and he seems to like them. Don’t tell the General, though. It’s strictly against the rules.”

Jerry smiled. He was glad there was at least one person looking out for Wolfie. “So, erm, is there anything I can help you with? I’m supposed to make myself useful around here.”

Nessie chewed the side of her mouth and seemed to think. “You can help me do some research in the library, but I’m only going to be in there for an hour or so. Fatal Autonomy is on later and I never miss it.”

Jerry laughed. He was surprised that someone so bookish could be a diehard fan of a flaky TV cop drama. “You actually like that show?”

Ness nodded enthusiastically. “I love it.” She put her hands up in front of her. “I know I know, it’s kind of lame, but I just find it fascinating. I hear they base the killers on real life psychopaths.”

“Wow, I did not know that. To be honest, I haven’t watched it since that got rid of the fat sidekick. She was hilarious.”

Nessie grimaced. “She was awful. The show is lot more serious now that they’ve gotten rid of her. Harry McGlade is much darker.”

“Then perhaps it’s time I give the show another chance,” said Jerry, feeling himself blush but not knowing why. He also suddenly needed to go to the toilet real bad.

“Great, then it’s a date. I’ll just check in with Andy and Sun and then I’ll show you to the library. The main one is on level 4, but there’s a smaller one down here that has all the material relating to the subjects on this level. It’s pretty cool, if you’re into that kind of thing. It would be good to have company. It can get a little lonely in there.”

“Then I’m very happy to come,” said Jerry, wondering why there was suddenly so many butterflies in his belly. Perhaps he was coming down with dysentery. Was it okay to drink the water in the United States? He assumed it must be.

“Come on,” said Nessie. “I’ll lead the way.”

Chapter Fifteen

Andy and Sun learned what they could from the batling for two hours—which amounted to very little—and then made their war to the conference room. Sergeant Rimmer was sat at the long conference table, filling in paperwork while sis radio squawked constantly on the table in front of him; his well-trained men reporting in habitually.

“Mr and Mrs Dennison. How are you settling in?”

“Fine, thanks,” said Andy. “This isn’t our first rodeo.”

Rimmer stroked his long beard and sighed. “I always said they needed better security at Samhain. I never knew what they had there exactly, but I knew it was of the highest clearance. Anything that important should have had a bunch of armed guards watching over it.”

“I’m not sure it would have helped,” said Sun. “But perhaps you’re right. It certainly couldn’t have been any worse than it was.”

“Well, you’re perfectly safe here. Hasn’t been a serious security breach on my watch for almost five years.”

“How long have you been here?” Andy asked.

“Almost five years.”

“So what did you do before that?”

“I was a Sergeant in the Army Rangers. On the ground during the invasion of Iraq.”

“How did you end up here?”

“Stumbled upon something I shouldn’t have.”

Andy leaned forwards. “Really? Care to share?”

Rimmer put down his pen and looked up at them. He sighed. “I suppose I can tell you. Not that I particularly enjoy telling it.”

Sun and Andy said nothing.

So Rimmer continued. “My unit were in the south-western Iraqi desert near Rutba. We were looking for a chemical weapons processing plant that Intel told us was in the area. We had managed to flip a guy in the Republican Guard. He’d explained that Saddam had several WMDs ready to launch the very moment he was declared dead or captured—kind of like a dead man’s switch. One of the Army’s primary objectives was ensuring that this was not true, or neutralising the devices in the case that it was. The plant south of Rutba was our first and only lead. We didn’t want Saddam to know that we were on to his plan, so command sent in three Ranger units. My unit was in the area directly south of Rutba. So far we’d found nothing but desert, but we had an itinerary and we weren’t going to bug-out until we hit every point on our map. But when a sandstorm came in, it ruined our radio equipment and left us all turned around on ourselves. I could have gone north towards the road and called the mission in as a bust, but I made the decision to keep heading south instead. We were in the middle of the desert, a perfect place to hide a facility. Turns out I was right.”

“You found the chemical plant?” Sun asked.

“I thought so at the time. My unit came upon a group of single-story buildings surrounded by a half dozen 3-tonners—big trucks. There was no natural cover so we dropped down low and approached from two sides. We were sure we were about to strike a mighty blow for America.” Rimmer blinked slowly as the story seemed to play out in his mind. “They opened fire on us before we even got half way. I didn’t realise at the time but the area was covered by thermal imaging and radar. They saw us coming a mile away. By the time I even knew what was happening, my entire unit had been slaughtered and I’d taken a bullet in the neck. I thought I was done for, even started to pray. Bleeding out into the sand, I thought about all the wives and families of the men I’d just led to their deaths. I was angry, ashamed, and a whole bunch of other screwed-up emotions beginning with A. Even though I was dying, I wanted to get up and scream, to fight for my men. But every time I tried, my body would not move. Last thing I saw before I lost consciousness was two men running towards me. Neither of them were Iraqi soldiers.”

“So what happened?” Andy asked. “Who were they?”

“Deus Manus. I’d stumbled upon the Iraqi chapter of the Order. They called their facility Jahannam.”

Andy frowned and translated the word in his head. “Jahannam? The Islamic concept of Hell?”

Rimmer nodded. “They brought me underground and locked me in a cell, vetted me for almost six months. Ran psych tests on me, background checks, the works. Checked up on every person I knew. After enough time had passed, the US government listed me as KIA—as well as all of the men in my unit, whose bodies they had relocated a hundred-miles north of where they actually died. That’s when Deus Manus inducted me. I trained for a few years at the Iraqi facility and eventually transferred here, back home. This was my first major gig and I’ve been here ever since.”

“You ever regret being here?”

Rimmer sniffed. “I regret how I got here, on the backs of my dead squad mates, but I don’t regret being here now. It’s important work. The things we keep down here are dangerous and vile. After what happened in Samhain you both should understand that.”

Andy and Sun said nothing.

General Kane appeared from one of the side offices. He quickly took a seat at the table with them. “Any issues, Sergeant?”

“None at all, sir. All systems optimal. Outside perimeters clear. We’re all alone out here as usual, sir.”

“Very good.”

Rimmer took his bundle of papers and left.

“Now then.” Kane turned to face the Dennisons. “Did you find anything out about our guests?”

“No specifics,” said Sun. “But it’s obvious that the batling is part of some kind of larger plan. If we were to believe the things it was saying to us, mankind should be preparing for some kind of war.”

Kane huffed. “Against a handful of flying goat men? I’ve faced off against far worse.”

“That may be,” said Andy. “But these batlings were created by something far older than anything we can conceive of. Whatever Bub is planning is something he’s put several millennia of thought into. I feel it would be wise not to underestimate him or any of the batlings.”

“You told me there were perhaps only a dozen or so of these things,” said Kane. “What harm could they possibly do?”

“Bub may not have an army,” said Sun. “But he can make one.”

Kane frowned at them both, waiting for something more. “He can make one?”

Andy nodded. “Bub has the ability to manipulate other living creatures. He can bend and twist their DNA, turning them into monsters. We saw such a thing at Samhain.”

“Nonsense,” said Kane. “Such a thing is the realm of God alone. That batling is no different to the werewolf we have locked up down here, or the imps up on subbasement 1. Deus Manus has captured and held every despicable creature on this earth, and has done it successfully for thousands of years. What happened to you both at Samhain has frightened you. General Race’s incompetence has rattled your faith in the ability of the human race to defend itself. We are top of the food chain for a reason, and nothing will knock us off that pedestal.”

Andy rolled his chin against his chest and sighed as his neck cracked. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his arguments rational rather than idealist like Kane’s.

“Firstly,” Andy said. “General Race was a good man. He served the United States Government his entire life and died trying to protect people. To speak ill of him, now that he is gone, is not something I will tolerate, head of this facility or not. Secondly, Bub, and that batling in particular, are like nothing else in this facility. It is a creature that may just hold the secret to life itself. We had a theory that…” Andy sighed. He didn’t want to waste his breath getting into theories which held no proof. He suddenly wished he hadn’t spoken.

Kane folded his arms. “A theory that what?”

“That Bub travelled from another planet and created life on this earth.”

Kane stared at them. He didn’t blink, he didn’t react. After several uncomfortable seconds had passed, he simply got up and walked away, shaking his head the whole time.

Sun and Andy looked at each other.

“Guess he must be a creationist,” said Sun.

“I get the impression that having faith in God is a pre-requisite to be inducted into Deus Manus. Even Rimmer mentioned something about praying.”

“What about Dr Chandelling, Dr Gorman? Surely as people of science, what they have seen here must have made them question the existence of God.”

Andy shrugged. “Maybe. Or perhaps it made them belief in Him even more.”

Sun huffed and reached across the table to hold Andy’s hand. “So what’s the plan, hubby?”

“I don’t know. But I have an idea.”

Sun raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what would that be? Care to share?”

“Well, my thinking is that the Irishman and the batling turning up at pretty much the same time is too much to be a coincidence. Lucas even went as far as to admit to knowing Bub. I wonder if Bub knows him.”

Sun chewed her lip. “So, what are you saying?”

Andy rubbed his fingertips together and had one last think about his plan. It was worth a punt, worth the risk. “I say it’s time that Lucas and Bub Jr. meet face to face.”

Chapter Fifteen

“So what are we looking for?” Jerry asked.

“Anything to do with the batling,” Nessie said. “Especially anything to do with the origin of its creator.”

“Bub?”

“Yes, although that’s just the name they gave him at the Samhain project. No one knows his real name.”

The library on subbasement 10 was huge, not as big as a public library but vastly larger than a private library had any right to be. The ceilings were high, stacked with books of all sizes. An area of ceiling against the far wall was even higher, perhaps a hundred feet up and rising like a shaft. A draught hurled down from it.

“What’s with this big hole in the ceiling?” Jerry asked.

Nessie glanced up from the book she was studying. “Huh? Oh, yeah. When this facility was expanded to include the subbasements, they didn’t have the technology to pipe oxygen in from the surface all the way down here, so they hollowed out a duct all the way to the surface and just secured it with a grate at the top. When they modernised the facility a few years back, they filled the top of the shaft and turned this space into a library. The shaft still goes up part of the way. I can’t remember how far.”

“They should stick a huge fireman’s pole up there and use it instead of the elevator.”

Nessie giggled. “Yeah, that would definitely be a funner way to get about. Wouldn’t be much fun trying to go up, though.”

Jerry picked up a dusty book the size of a monopoly board and wiped his hand across the surface revealing the title: Infernas Animas.

“So this ‘Bub’, he was like, what, a demon or something?”

Nessie leafed through the pages of the book she had set down in front of her. “To tell you the truth, no one knows exactly what he is. They dug him up in Panama over a hundred years ago and he slept pretty much the whole time they had him. Then, five-six years ago he wakes up and causes havoc. The Dennisons and one other member of the Samhain team were the only survivors. Up until Bub awoke, the scientists at the facility thought he was the devil himself—Satan.”

Jerry’s eyes went wide. “No shit? You mean the devil and angels exist for real? Man, I would love to see an angel. Bet they’re all badass with flaming swords and stuff.”

“I don’t think he actually is Satan, Jerry. The report that the Dennisons gave made it seem more like Bub is some kind of evolutionary origin for all things on earth. I don’t know if I believe it myself, but the reports filed just before the facility exploded suggested that Bub shared DNA on a basic level with all other species on earth. There’s no way to explain that.”

Jerry opened the book in front of him and turned to a random page. On it was an image of a woman being burned in front of a crowd of people. The text was all in foreign, but Jerry could figure out that it was a witch. “But Bub is gone now, he turned into lots of the smaller batlings, right?”

“As far as I know. That batling is pretty much a miniature replica of Bub himself. It would be interesting to know if Bub could reform again if all of the batlings came back together.”

Jerry laughed. “Like some sort of Lego demon or one of those robots in the Power Rangers?”

Nessie giggled. “You’re such a nerd.”

Jerry frowned and looked down at his book, turning the pages one after the other without reading any of them. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“No,” said Nessie. “I like it. I think you’re funny.”

Jerry looked up at her. “What, funny in a good way?”

“Is there any other kind?”

“I guess not. So you found anything yet?”

Nessie nodded and motioned for him to take the seat beside her. Jerry did so, his hands trembling as he pulled back the chair.

“This book is all about the Nordic bronze-age. It has a chapter that indexes all the different cave paintings and rock carvings from that time.”

“What time?”

“1700BC to about 500BC. That’s really old, but not as old as you’d think. The earliest forms of civilisations may have started as early as 12,000BC.”

Jerry whistled. “Crikey! So why are you not starting back there, at the beginning?”

“Well, with so much time to cover, I feel it’s best to start with this period and work backwards and forwards based on what I find. If I find mention of Bub, then I’ll go backwards a few centuries and search for something else. If I find nothing then I’ll try something a little more recent. I’m trying to pinpoint Bub’s place in time.”

Jerry nodded. It seemed like finding a needle in a haystack to him, but if it took an age to come up with something useful, then he would be quite happy to sit next to Nessie the whole time. Her reddish hair seemed to sparkle beneath the soft lights of the library and her rosy cheeks radiated warmth. She had a way of making Jerry feel comfortable; probably the first woman that had ever managed to do that, since he wasn’t exactly the smoothest around members of the opposite sex.

“So, what makes you think there’s anything about Bub in the history books? Wouldn’t we all know about him if there was?”

Nessie smiled. “One of the first things you learn when inducted into Deus Manus is that there are certain history books that were written to be read by only a few people. Most of the books in this library were written by hand and reproduced perhaps only a dozen times. Deus Manus probably owns all of the reproductions as well as the originals. What we have in this library is the complete and concise history of the world. What everyone else has is just the cliff notes.”

Jerry looked around at all the dusty tomes that lined the many shelves. “I think you just blew my mind.”

Nessie chuckled. “Well, it’s been a long time since I blew a man’s anything.” As soon as the words left Nessie’s mouth there was a look of horror in her eyes. She placed a hand over her lips and shook her head. “I can’t believe I just said that. My god, I’ve been in this hole too long.”

Jerry felt himself blush and tried to will it away. “Hey, erm, don’t worry about it. It was just a joke; a pretty funny one actually.”

Nessie moved her hand away from her mouth and sighed. “Wow, I’m sorry. Still can’t believe I just said that. Anyway, as for finding Bub in history, look what I found.”

Jerry stared at the pages in front of Nessie. On the page was a photograph of a cliff wall. Splashed on it in faded red paint was the image of a winged man with horns and the lower body of a goat. It looked just like the batling, only bigger. All around the winged figure were little people on their knees, worshipping.

“What is this?” Jerry asked.

“This,” said Nessie, “is proof that people once worshipped Bub as a god.”

“What people?”

“The Nordic tribes. We don’t know a lot about them as written sources are lacking, even for us. But we do know that they worshipped two gods—one good and one bad. It could be said that these two gods were actually a duality of one being—a good and bad side of one god. But it could also be that they worshipped the same god we do, a caring god in the heavens, and a second god, an evil god down here on earth.”

“Bub?”

Nessie looked at Jerry and nodded. “Could be. If they really did worship Bub, then we know that he is at least three-thousand years old. Let’s go back further.”

Jerry stood up and went over to one of the bookcases. “What can I get you? Remember that I am here to serve.”

“Ooh, I always wanted my own assistant. Can you get me that big blue book just over there?” She pointed. “It should say Hadzabe on the spine. It’s a book on a Stone Age tribe from Tanzania. I want to see if I can find Bub in a different time and location.”

Jerry located the book and brought it over. “You want to find out if Bub got about a bit?”

Nessie laughed. “Yes. It would be good to see just how far his influence stretched, just how many civilisations were touched by him.”

Jerry sat back down at the table and opened the book. “Okay,” he said. “Let’s google this bitch, old school.”

Jerry couldn’t help but smile as he saw out the corner of his eye that Nessie was smiling at him.

Chapter Sixteen

“So how are we going to do this?”

Andy looked at his wife and wished he had a clear-cut answer to give to her. They were still sitting at the conference table and had been discussing the plan of getting Lucas and the batling together for the past hour. “I’m not sure,” he said. “I think the best man to ask would be Rimmer.”

Sun nodded. “Let’s get him in here, then.”

Andy leant forward and examined the intercom in the centre of the table. There was a small LCD display and some buttons. After a couple of seconds, Andy worked out how to use the device and put a call through to Rimmer.

“Rimmer. Who’s this?”

“Andy and Sun. We’re still in the conference room. Would you be able to come meet with us?”

A sigh came from the speakers, but Rimmer said, “I’ll be there in five.”

Andy leant back in his chair and folded his hands on his lap. He spent a couple minute’s thought on the logistics of what he wanted to achieve.

“Maybe if we can divide one of the cells in two, it would work.”

“How will we move one of them to the other’s cell? We know the batling is dangerous, but Lucas could be too.”

“There has to be some way of moving the occupants. I mean, how do they get them in here in the first place? You heard it yourself that they move specimens between facilities from time to time.”

“We blitz the cell with sleeping gas,” said Rimmer, entering the room. “Then we head in as quickly as we can and secure the prisoner inside a titanium cargo crate. In this case we may be able to use simple handcuffs and drag the inmate down the corridor.”

Andy frowned at Rimmer. “You heard what we were talking about?”

Rimmer pointed to the intercom. “I was listening on the intercom. I can access it remotely.”

“You should be working for the NSA,” said Andy. “You’re wasted here.”

Rimmer deadpanned. “The NSA couldn’t afford me.”

“So,” Sun said. “You think it can be done? Moving Lucas and the batling together?”

Rimmer pulled at his raggedy beard. “Seems like a stupid idea to me, but you’re the eggheads. I’m obliged to facilitate whatever you think is best—within reason.”

“Is there a way to divide one of the cells?” Andy asked.

“Maybe. The cells on this level aren’t very big, but we may be able to rig something up. Leave it with me for a few hours and I’ll get something sorted.”

“Thanks, Rimmer. I appreciate it.”

“You two just be careful. One thing I’ve learned, being down here, is that these creatures will take any chance they get to escape. You better clear things with Dr Gorman, too. She’ll make a fuss if you don’t.”

Andy rolled his eyes. “Great. I’ve been looking forward to working with her. She seems like such a charmer.”

Rimmer deadpanned again, but the corners of his mouth twitched as if fighting a smile. “Dr Gorman is a brilliant lady. I imagine having her level of intellect can be a burden at times.”

Andy nodded. He was aware that being a genius could be at the detriment to other mental functions—most notably, social skills. He himself had struggled to maintain relationships in his formative years due to his intelligence and had seen first-hand, with the likes of his former colleague, Dr Belgium, that the smartest people were usually the most awkward.

“I’ll meet up with you folks later,” Rimmer said, and then left the room.

Andy looked at Sun and gave her a forlorn smile. “Shall we go deal with Gorman now or later?”

“Let’s get it over with.”

They headed away from the conference table towards the back of the room, over to the door that read: LABS 1-4. Andy pushed open the door and held it for his wife. Sun stepped through and looked around.

“Sure puts Samhain to shame,” she said.

Andy stepped inside and took it all in. They were standing in a clinical white corridor that had several glass cubicles on either side: small examination rooms and offices mostly. Up ahead was a vast laboratory. All four of its walls were glass and the equipment inside was cutting-edge. Andy could not even imagine what most of it was for. Standing inside the lab, wearing her lab coat was Dr Gorman. When she saw them approaching, the aggravation was clear on her face.

But then she smiled and waved at them.

Andy and Sun exchanged confused glances. “Perhaps she’s chilled out about us being here,” Sun suggested.

Gorman gave them a hand signal that suggested she would be ‘two minutes’ and then started to pull off her rubber gloves, depositing them in a waste-disposal tub. Thirty seconds later she was opening the door to the lab and stepping out.

“Mr and Mrs Dennison. Welcome to the labs. This is our level-1 lab. You can perform the more benign experiments here such as cultures and DNA sequencing. The other labs are more secure. That’s where we do our more sensitive experiments.”

“I’d be lost in any of them,” said Andy. “I don’t know how you make sense of it all.”

Gorman smiled. “I would say the same about you and languages, Mr Dennison.”

“Please, call me Andy.”

“Okay, Andy.”

“So what are you doing?” asked Sun. “Found anything interesting?”

Gorman frowned. “As you no doubt found with Bub, the batling seems to share DNA with just about every other species I can name. I performed an x-ray on a tissue sample we got from the batling and observed degradation under even the mildest doses of radiation, so that seems to be a weakness. In other words, I haven’t yet discovered anything that you didn’t already know when you got here.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find something,” said Sun. “You not mind us being here now?”

Dr Gorman looked down at her shoes like a scolded child. “I’m afraid I was a little immature before. You must understand that working down here, so far from civilisation, one tends to become stuck in their ways.”

“It’s okay,” said Sun. “I was once in the same environment. I understand cabin fever all too well.”

“Well, I apologise sincerely. Anything you need, just let me know.”

“Now that you mention it,” said Andy. “We were hoping to get your help with something.”

“Yes?”

“We want to move Lucas and the batling into the same cell. I want to see how they interact, if they are familiar with one another.”

Gorman’s eyes went unnaturally wide. “You want to place two different guests in the same cell? Are you both insane?”

Andy sighed. Didn’t take her long to lose her temper again.

“We think it’s the best way to find out if Lucas is here because of the batling or vice-versa. We need to know if they are here for related reasons.”

Gorman rubbed at her forehead and let out a long breath. When she looked at them again, she was calmer, but it seemed forced. “Okay, okay. I hope you can excuse my surprise. It’s just that we’ve never attempted such a thing down here before—least of all with the guests of level 10. But if that’s what you want to do, then it is my duty to accommodate you.”

“Did General Kane make you realise that?” said Sun, somewhat sarcastically.

Andy shot his wife a glance. Don’t poke the bear, honey.

A smile crept across Gorman’s face. “You’re not wrong. My discussion in General Kane’s office was enlightening. Now, when were you hoping to achieve this feat of insane peril?”

“We were hoping to get it done this afternoon,” said Andy. “Sooner the better.”

“Of course, why wait and plan when you can rush right in. Let us get started then.”

“So you’re happy to help us?” Andy asked, somewhat suspiciously.

Gorman stared at him and raised both her eyebrows. “Of course, I’m happy to help, Mr Dennison. If I don’t then only the worst will happen. The sooner you get going, the sooner we can move things forwards. I’m very much looking forward to how this will all end.”

Dr Gorman walked between Sun and Andy and left the labs. Sun was frowning at Andy and he asked her what was wrong.

“Nothing,” she said. “Just wondering what she means by the word ‘end.”’

Chapter Seventeen

“They want to do what?” Kane wasn’t sure that he had just heard correctly.

Rimmer folded his arms across his wide chest and checked his watch. “It’s not necessarily a bad idea. I agree with them when they say the Mick turning up the same time as the batling is too much of a coincidence to be just a coincidence.”

“Of all people, I wouldn’t expect you to agree with this. It’s an unnecessary risk to security.”

Rimmer chewed the side of his cheek, thought about it, and then said, “Sometimes a risk is the only option left. In Iraq we would have been dead in the water without interrogating prisoners. What the Dennisons are suggesting makes some sense. I remember shoving a couple of Iraqi soldiers in a cell together once and watching them go at it. They were long-time enemies, but both loyally served Saddam. As one spat accusations and insults at the other, the other one would spit them right back. By the end of the day we had eavesdropped enough information to know the names of their entire families and half their friends. We also knew that one of the men was responsible for a botched attack on a US base. His enemy straight-out insulted him for his incompetence in failing in his mission. You’d be surprised how much you can get the enemy to do your work for you if manoeuvred correctly.”

Kane ran his palms over the surface of his desk, enjoying the feeling of the wood grain against his calloused hands. “You think this is what this is? Putting two enemies together to see what we can overhear?”

“Among other benefits,” said Rimmer.

“Such as?”

“They might tear each other apart. Two less monsters for us to deal with.”

Kane huffed, but couldn’t help but smile. He always appreciated Rimmer’s straight-forward view of things. “It’s our job to house these creatures safely, Sergeant. While I don’t disagree with your sentiment, I swore an oath to keep those monsters safely locked up in their cages.”

Rimmer nodded, he unfolded his arms and put them into his pockets. “All I’m saying, sir, is that if we go into things with the best of intentions—to gain Intel—and something unforeseen happens, well, then nobody has anything to feel guilty about. Shit happens, as they say.”

Kane leant back in his chair and nodded. “You know that there are more of those things? The faustlings, I mean. We have over a dozen of them at our other facilities.”

Rimmer nodded. “I know.”

“You do? How?”

“I have my sources. It pays to know people working at other facilities. It can give a heads up on any potential issues that may arise.”

Kane was getting a little irritated by his staff knowing things above their pay grade, but he supposed in Rimmer’s case it made sense. It was the man’s job to know things. “Then you understand that we need to learn more about those things. We need, more than anything, to learn what we can while we can. They’re planning something.”

“With all due respect, sir. I think the most important thing to learn about those things is how to kill them. Perhaps putting the Mick in with our own faustling will shine some light on how to achieve said termination.”

Kane thought about it and nodded his head at Rimmer. “Get it done. But get it done safely. Keep an eye on the Dennisons, and the English boy especially.”

Rimmer deadpanned. “Of course. Should there be anything unforeseen due to happen to them?”

Kane deadpanned right back. “Not until they’re done.”

“And when will that be?”

Kane picked up the papers on his desk and shuffled them. “When I say they are.”

Chapter Eighteen

Andy was standing with Sun and Dr Gorman as two of Rimmer’s men appeared in the hallway of subbasement 10 with a thick roll of steel mesh. Rimmer was with them, and broke away to talk to Andy.

“This is the best I could come up with at short notice. We’ll get the mesh secured through the centre of the cell, but if either of them has more strength than they’re letting on, they may get through.”

Andy looked in at Lucas in his cell. The man didn’t seem particularly strong, but it was impossible to know for certain. “Okay, we’ll just have to hope for the best.”

“This cannot go wrong,” said Dr Gorman. “General Kane won’t tolerate us making a mess of this. More to the point, neither will I.”

“Doing a wee spot of decorating, are we?” said Lucas from inside his cell. “I wouldn’t mind a splash of cerise on these walls. Breathes a bit of life to a room, so it does.”

Andy went up to the glass of Lucas’s cell. “You’re going to get a roommate. Can we trust you to behave whilst we make the arrangements?”

Lucas glanced around his tiny cell and huffed. “Hope this new fella isn’t going to take up a lot of room. No room to swing a cat as it is.”

“The space you have is perfectly sufficient,” Gorman said. “And might I add that you placed yourself in there.”

“Aye, that I did, lass. I was looking for the nearest pub, but I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere.”

“More fool you.”

Rimmer nodded at Andy. “You ready?”

Andy nodded back.

Rimmer went over to the LED touchscreen beside Lucas’s cell and placed his thumb against it. He prodded through the menus and then typed in a passcode on the screen.

Suddenly there was a sharp hissing sound.

Andy turned to look into Lucas’s cell and saw that an amber substance was being pumped into the air from the ceiling. It quickly dissipated and mixed with the room’s existing atmosphere.

Lucas glanced upwards and frowned. “Did someone just let a cheeky fart loose in here?”

Then he began to cough and splutter. He clutched at his neck, began writhing.

“He’s fighting it,” said Rimmer. “Just give it a minute.”

They gave it a minute. Lucas dropped down to his knees, spat a wad of phlegm on the floor. Then he glanced up at them all and began laughing. He straightened up and got back to his feet. “You’ll need something a wee bit stronger than this gnat’s piss to put me down. I once smoked a reefer with Bob Marley. Not a fat lot else has been able to touch me since.”

Andy’s shoulders slumped. Sun, who had remained silent throughout the last several minutes, came up beside him and shook her head. “We should have expected as much. All of his tests came back non-organic, so why should we assume that he’s going to have a nervous system we can exploit with basic chemistry?”

Andy sighed. “So what should we do?”

“We should call it off,” Gorman said. “If we don’t have an effective plan of action then we need to go away until we come up with one. Mistakes are made by acting without proper thought or appropriate reflection.”

Lucas pressed his hands up against the glass and started mumbling something. His eyes rolled back in his head.

“What is he doing?” Sun asked her husband.

“I don’t know.”

Lucas’s words became louder. “…pen sesame. Open sesame…OPEN SESAME.”

The glass wall sprung aside on its rails, leaving Lucas’s cell wide open. The Irishman stood in the newly opened gap and grinned at them all. “Neat trick, huh? Of course, nothing beats a good bit of card magic, but a bit of variety never hurt anybody.”

Rimmer signalled his men who immediately took up their assault rifles and pointed them at Lucas. Rimmer was only carrying a sidearm—what looked like an Israeli Desert Eagle .44—but he quickly pulled it from its holster and pointed it. “Don’t fucking move!”

Lucas held his hands up. “Come now, I’m just being helpful. You folks wanted to come inside and I’ve opened the door for you and said thusly: “You handsome gals and gents are mighty welcome.”

“Get down on the floor,” Rimmer demanded.

“Such bad manners. These are my digs, not yours. Unless you want me to come out there and tie your limbs in knots and use you as a skipping rope, I suggest you stop with the threats, fella. That heroic beard of yours ain’t fooling anybody.”

Rimmer took a step forward and gripped his handgun tighter, his knuckles growing white. “I don’t make threats, fella.”

Lucas chuckled. “Look out! We got ourselves a badass over here. I wonder how much of a badass you were when you were bleeding out into the sand of the Iraqi desert. You know that Lewis’s mother killed herself after she got the news that her son had died. You must feel really bad about that.”

Rimmer snarled.

“Okay,” said Andy. “Let’s everybody calm down.”

“That sounds like a wise idea,” said Lucas, keeping his eyes on Rimmer and grinning slightly.

“Lucas? Will you let Rimmer and his men install a fence inside your cell? Will you try anything?”

“Not unless he keeps glaring at me with those beady little peepers of his.”

Andy turned to face Rimmer. “Rimmer?”

Rimmer kept his pistol up but glanced sideways at Andy. “I’m not about to trust this guy for a minute.”

“Then we have a problem,” said Andy. “Because he doesn’t seem to be all that bothered by your gun, and I would very much prefer that you didn’t shoot him.”

Rimmer lowered his gun by an inch, held it a second longer, and then lowered it all the way. “Fine, but if this guy even scratches his nose funny he’s getting a bullet right in the skull.”

Andy nodded. “Fair enough. Get your men moving.”

Rimmer instructed his men, who quickly got moving with the thick roll of steel mesh. Another couple of guys appeared with some steel rods and a power drill. By the time five minutes had passed they had drilled and bolted the steel rods to the left and right walls of the cell and secured the mesh fence to them both. Lucas was corralled against the back wall and was now trapped behind the mesh while the front of the cell was left open.

“Will the glass wall go back into place?” Sun asked.

Rimmer nodded. “It’s attached to runners. It will slide back into place once I log out of the cell’s control panel. We’re all set to move the other prisoner. You ready?”

“Let’s get this over with,” Gorman said. “The sooner we get the prisoner moved, the better. This has already gone disastrously.”

Andy felt a lump form in his throat as he contemplated moving the batling out of its cell. The nightmare of Samhain came rushing back to him and for a moment he was frozen to the spot.

Sun placed a hand on Andy’s back and rubbed.

Andy swallowed a lump in his throat and then spoke. “We’re ready Rimmer. Get it done fast. Lucas may have been cooperative, but I assure you that the batling won’t be.”

Rimmer nodded and got to work. “Handler, login and gas the cell. It may not have worked on the Mick, but I’m betting the fat pigeon won’t fare as well.”

The security guard, Handler, nodded obediently before logging into the system as commanded.

Rather than re-holster his .44, Rimmer kept it at his side, pointed at the floor. “We’ve all done this before,” he said. “It’s a routine crate job. Soon as the target is out, we move in and secure it.”

The men who had installed the steel mesh fence left momentarily and then returned with a large metal crate on casters.”

“Okay, we’re a go,” said Rimmer.

Handler released the sleeping gas into the batling’s cell.

The batling took note of the gathering outside its cell and begun cursing them all. “What are you looking at, slugs? Go and live your lives while there is still time. Soon you will be reduced to blood and giblets. You will bathe in the blood of your kin while your own heart turns to slurry. You will…”

The batling stopped cursing them and flapped around erratically. Its wings began to slow and the act of staying airborne seemed to grow more difficult.

“What…? How dare you! Pathetic…humansss… Die…”

The batling tried to stay airborne but its wings started to move like they were doused in clay.

It dropped out of the air like a stone and hit the floor with a thump!

“Okay,” Rimmer shouted. “Move, move!”

Handler typed in the command for the glass barrier to slide away and the two other guards rushed into the cell. They threw a thick blanket over the top of the subdued batling and grabbed a hold of it. Together they managed to heave the batling upwards and started waddling backwards out of the cell. Handler left the control panel and stood beside the metal crate, holding the lid wide open.

“Quickly,” said Rimmer. “If this thing’s healing ability is anything to go by, the gas won’t keep him out for long.”

Rimmer’s men readjusted their grip on the blanket-wrapped batling and hurried their pace towards the open crate.

“Just dump it in,” said Handler, still holding the lid open, and growing increasingly anxious.

The two men dumped the batling into the crate and stepped back, panting. The creature was obviously heavier than it looked and the two men looked exhausted.

Handler grinned, shoved the lid closed with a bang. “Job well done.”

“Finally!” said Dr Gorman. “I was beginning to doubt that you people could even-”

The crate’s lid sprung back open, smashing Handler in the sternum and sending him backwards. The man hit the floor, wheezing.

The hair on the back of Andy’s neck stood to alert. Oh, Shit!

The batling shook off the blanket and leapt into the air, its wings flapping with renewed vitality.

“Damn it,” Andy shouted. “You let it escape.”

“Deal with this right now, Mr Rimmer,” Dr Gorman demanded.

Rimmer ignored them both. He was already busy shouting orders to his men.

“Aim and fire. Avoid all friendlies.”

Sun grabbed her husband and dragged him backwards, away from the danger. But he shook her away. Andy glared up at the batling, which glared right back at him.

“We will enjoy tearing you apart, Andrew,” it snarled. “Right after I make you watch as we violate your wife.”

Rimmer raised his pistol and took a shot that deafened them all. The bullet clipped the batling’s wing and spun it in the air. The wound was superficial and they all watched in horror as the bullet hole sealed over within seconds.

Dr Gorman began hopping up and down on her heels. “Shoot it again. Shoot it again right now.”

The batling snarled. It folded its wings around itself and dove down at Rimmer like a missile.

Rimmer leapt aside.

The batling continued its descent, adjusting its aim in order to hit the next closest target, which happened to be Handler. The man was kneeling on the floor, clutching his injured ribs.

The batling collided with Handler and sent him sliding across the concrete floor. The blow was so fierce that the man’s shoulder popped noticeably out of place and left his arm dangling limply.

Handler rolled around on the floor, bellowed in pain. The batling ascended back into the air.

Then dived again.

This time the batling pinned Handler to the ground with its hoven feet. It glanced back over its shoulder and cackled at everyone watching. “Your human flesh is sssooooo succulent, like rancid meat.”

Then the batling turned back to its prey and opened up Handler’s throat with a swipe of its talons. Handler gurgled as a jet of blood erupted from his neck. The batling opened its mouth and drank indulgently from the arcing torrent.

Rimmer’s men opened fire, hitting the batling with most rounds while missing with others which embedded themselves in the concrete.

The batling wrapped its wings around itself in a protective cocoon and tried to absorb the gunfire. But the assault rifles made short work of its attempts to defend itself. Within seconds the batling’s wings had been bitten and shredded into tatters.

The batling roared in anger.

“We will…release…Hell…on you.”

It leapt into the air. With its wings no longer working, the batling had no way to keep itself airborne, so it rose in an arc before succumbing to gravity and falling.

The batling landed on top of Sun and immediately slashed at her throat.

Rimmer strode forward, his pistol held in both hands and ready to fire.

Andy shot out an arm. “No! You’ll hit my wife.”

Rimmer squinted, let off a shot.

The bullet stuck the back of the batling’s head, ricocheting off its skull and leaving behind a massive gaping hole. Sun flung the batling off of her and then collapsed backwards.

Andy watched her hit the ground.

Rimmer took a run up and stamped on the batling. He then grabbed the creature by the bloody stump of one of his wings and then dragged it across the floor and over to the open cell. Once he had shoved the creature over the threshold he gave it another vicious boot.

“Enough, Sergeant,” said Gorman. “It’s dealt with.”

“Goddamnit all to shit!” Rimmer marched outside the cell and jabbed his finger against the control panel. The glass barrier slid back into place. He kicked at the wall furiously. “Motherfucker!”

Lucas stared down at his new roommate but said nothing. If anything he looked a little forlorn.

Andy leapt down to his knees beside his wife. “Sun! Please, no! Sun! It’s going to be alright, sweetheart. It’s going to be alright.”

Andy held Sun across his lap while he held his hand tightly against the ragged wound that opened up the side of her neck. Blood was everywhere.

Rimmer headed over to Handler and shook his head in disgust at the sight of his dead team member. He turned and punched the glass door of the batling’s cell and swore loudly.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Kane shouted like a drill sergeant as he marched towards them from the direction of the elevator. The look on his face made him look like a bomb ready to explode. As he surveyed the carnage in front of him, he asked one single question. “Who is responsible for this goddamn mess?”

Nobody answered.

Chapter Nineteen

“I take full responsibility,” said Rimmer, standing in Kane’s office up on level 2 alongside Dr Gorman. “It was my guys that lost custody of the prisoner. It was my operation.”

“I agree,” said Dr Gorman. “It was Rimmer’s fault.

Rimmer narrowed his eyes at his colleague but said nothing.

Kane laced his fingers together in front of him on the desk. He closed his eyes for a few seconds. When he opened them they seemed tired, yet alert and ready. “Who did we lose?”

Rimmer answered quickly. “We lost Supervisor Handler from B team. Sun Dennison was also injured during the encounter. We also have to deal with the fact that Lucas can seemingly open up his cell at will.”

Kane shook his head and sighed. “But the faustling is once again secure, inside the designated cell no less?”

Rimmer nodded. “In that regard the mission was successful.”

“At least things weren’t a complete fiasco then. What concerns me most is incidents like this occurring in the future. I won’t allow gunfights in my corridors. Sergeant Rimmer, I’m disappointed in you. You are usually so faultless in your duties.”

“I…acted against my better judgement. I understood the risk but felt it was worth taking. I perhaps made a miscalculation.”

Gorman scoffed. “No perhaps about it. I, too, went along with this ill-prepared plan. I did so because the Dennisons insisted and it is my duty to oblige them while they are here. Is that not so?”

Kane gave Gorman an icy stare. “So, are you saying that the Dennison’s were reckless?”

“They insisted that Sergeant Rimmer lower his weapon. I believe their lack of caution reduced his readiness. If he’d kept his weapon ready, the batling may not have had time to attack poor Mr Handling.”

“Handler,” Rimmer corrected with a growl. “His name was Corporal Handler.”

“Of course,” said Gorman. “His death is a tragedy, not soon forgotten, but I believe it could have been prevented if you had been ready to fire sooner. You went about things far too casually.”

Rimmer went to respond, but Kane spoke first.

“Rimmer has already admitted liability. I don’t believe there is anything else to gain by further passing of judgement. What I want, going forward, is solutions, not finger pointing.”

Gorman folded her arms. “Of course, General. My sentiments exactly.”

Kane nodded. “Indeed. I think it is clear that a closer eye should be kept on the Dennison’s future activities. I’m starting to see Dr Gorman’s way of thinking; that outsiders spell trouble, but until they have finished their investigations, we are responsible for them. Let’s make sure that they have no more opportunities to wreak havoc.”

“Yessir,” said Rimmer.

“And most of all,” Kane said. “I don’t want to see any more dead bodies. Unless I ask for them.”

Chapter Nineteen

Rimmer’s men had fetched a gurney and taken Sun up to the Spiral’s infirmary on level 3. The floor also acted as a warehouse. Men in work overalls shared the corridors with doctors and nurses.

Andy sat outside the operating room that a pair of nurses had rushed Sun into. A doctor had quickly followed, but it had been over an hour since Andy had heard anything.

I can’t lose you, Sun. Nothing would make any sense without you. We’re supposed to have each other’s backs.

I let you down.

The sound of someone hurrying down the hall made Andy glance up from his thoughts. To his surprise he saw Jerry racing towards him with a panicked look on his face. The young historian, Nessie, was right beside him.

“We heard Mrs Dennison has been injured,” Jerry said. “Is she okay?”

“Who told you?”

“We were looking for you,” said Nessie. “We discovered something in the library that we wanted to show you—but that can wait. I asked one of Rimmer’s men where you were and he told us what happened. Is Sun going to be okay?”

“I don’t know. The doctor is in with her now. This is all my fault. I wanted to move the batling. I should have known better—hell, I did know better. I knew the risk I was taking.”

Jerry sat down on the bench beside Andy. “I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he said. “Italian chicks are really tough.”

Andy looked at Jerry and rolled his eyes. “What do you know? Nothing, that’s what!”

Jerry looked away, hurt.

“I’m sure Jerry is just trying to help,” said Nessie. “Nobody really knows what to say in these situations.”

Andy stood up and began pacing. “And what situation is this? My wife just got slashed by a goddamn monster kept in a hole the government forced me into. I’m tired of this shit. I never volunteered to fight evil. I’m not a goddamn monster hunter or a member of Deus Manus. Why couldn’t they deal with it themselves? Why did they have to bring Sun down here? If she dies, my life is ruined—and for what?”

“I don’t know,” said Jerry. “I assumed you were here because you wanted to be. They seem to respect you a lot around here. They came and got you by helicopter like some sort of VIP. I thought you kind of liked it.”

Andy frowned.

Was Jerry right? Had he stayed here instead of leaving all because of his ego?

They gave me a royal welcome and I bought it. I liked being the VIP, and Sun is the one who has suffered for it.

Andy sat back down and let his head drop. “If she dies…”

Jerry placed a hand on Andy’s back and made him flinch. He did not enjoy the contact, but he did not move away.

“Things will find a way of working themselves out, man. Mrs Dennison is really strong. She’ll be back and ready to kick arse in no time.”

Andy sighed. “Thanks. What is it you two wanted to show me, anyway?”

“Oh,” said Nessie. “It’s not important right now. It’ll keep.”

“Might as well tell me now,” said Andy. “I’m not doing anything else, am I?”

“Okay, well, Jerry and I were looking through the books and-”

The doctor came out of the operating theatre and Andy stood up again. “Is she…?”

The doctor waved a hand. “She’s fine. We stopped the bleeding and stitched up the wound. Luckily the damage was mostly across the collarbone. The major arteries were still intact. She’s a very lucky woman.”

“I want to see her.”

“Of course. The nurses are just making her comfortable in one of the suites. Head inside and take the door on your left.”

Andy hurried into the operating theatre and then took the door on the left. It led into a wide corridor with several rooms running off it. He saw through the room’s windows that Sun was inside one of them along with two nurses. He barged through the door and moved beside his wife’s bedside.

The two nurses left.

“Sun, I’m so sorry. I should have protected you, I should have-”

“I’m fine, Andy. Stop fussing.”

Andy stopped talking and gave her a hug. She winced as he no doubt aggravated her injuries, but she did not whimper and hugged him right back.

“We’re getting out of here,” he said. “Soon as you’ve rested. Let them deal with the batling. It’s not our problem.”

Sun eased him away stared at him with something approaching pity. “Andy, I’m fine. You don’t have to do anything rash.”

Andy saw how his wife’s usually olive skin was now pale; and examined the clean white bandage that covered the sickly brown of her stitched-up wound. She most certainly was not fine.

“Keeping you safe isn’t rash,” he said, not meaning to shout but doing so anyway. “It’s a promise I made. I can’t risk you getting hurt again.”

Sun shook her head, cleared mucus from her throat. She said, “I’ve never needed a man to protect me, Andrew. I didn’t marry you to look after me. I married you because of the man you are: a kind, courageous man. To run away is not who you are. It is not who I married.”

“I’d rather run if it means you’re safe.”

“You can’t run from this. Whatever that batling is doing here is linked to something much bigger. Whether you like it or not, we’re part of this. We can’t turn away.”

“But-”

There was a knock at the door.

Andy growled as Jerry poked his head through the door with an anxious look on his face.

“What is it, Jerry? Does this look like a time to interrupt?”

“Yeah, erm, I’m sorry. I’ve just come to tell you that Nessie will be in the library if you wanted to discuss that thing she found. She said to come by at your leisure.” Jerry put on a nervous smile. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Mrs Dennison. I was worried. Get well soon.”

“Thank you, Jerry.”

Andy sighed. “Jerry, wait. I’m sorry. Come on in; providing my wife doesn’t mind.”

“Of course not,” said Sun. “Take a seat, Jerry.” She motioned to a chair beside her bed.

Jerry took the seat and smiled at her. “Thank you,” he said. “So what happened in the cellblock? Did the batling do this?”

Sun nodded. “It isn’t as bad as it looks. I’ll be back on my feet in no time. I just need to find out what they did with my things. I’m naked under here.”

Jerry laughed and then looked around. “Hey, I think some of your things are here,” he said, stretching. He picked some items off a table beside the bed and held them up so that she could see them. “Here’s your purse and that blue button thing they gave you to access the systems.”

Sun smiled. “Thanks, Jerry, but that still doesn’t really solve the naked thing.”

Jerry blushed. “No, you’re right. I’ll go find out what they did with your clothes. You two probably want your privacy.”

“I’ll come find you and Nessie later,” said Andy. “Thanks, Jerry.”

Jerry left the room.

Andy turned back to Sun. “How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

“No, I think they gave me painkillers. Not morphine, or I would be out of it. They must have given me codeine or something.”

“Do you need anything else?”

Sun put her hand on Andy’s. “Sweetheart, I’m fine. You should get back to work. I need to sleep. The surgery has left me feeling sick and tired. I don’t want to get a fever.”

“I can’t leave you.”

Sun squeezed his hand. “Andy, go and do some work. I won’t have you sitting by my bedside. I’m not a child. I’ll be fine. Soon as I’m rested I’ll come join you.” Andy went to speak, but Sun cut him off. “Sweetheart, I almost got my head taken off putting your plan into action. You got the batling in with Lucas, so go see what happens. No point setting up fireworks and not watching them go off.”

“I think I’ve had enough of fireworks,” Andy said. “Enough to last a lifetime.”

Sun laughed. Her eyes were drooping and she was beginning to fall into slumber. “A few more won’t hurt.”

Andy grimaced. “Only takes one to take an eye out.”

Chapter Twenty

Jerry found a nurse in the operating room cleaning up. He asked for Sun’s clothes.

“We’ve piled them up over there,” one of the ladies said, nodding towards a pile of clothes on a side table. “I’m about to go attend to Mrs Dennison, would she like me to bring them in for her?”

Jerry nodded. “If you wouldn’t mind.”

He exited the room back into the corridor then headed for the conference room. From there he could make it into the dormitory wing and back to his suite. He was knackered after studying in the library for so long.

The small blue disk in Jerry’s pocket was burning a hole. He touched its rubbery surface and felt his stomach churn. What would happen when Sun realised he had stolen it from her bedside table. And why had he even stolen it in the first place?

Because I don’t want to be a prisoner like the things they have in the cells. I want to leave, to get a million miles away from this place. People are dying.

I’ll happily give myself up to the police back home than stay in this place until they decide to ‘dispose’ of me.

But there’s no way they will let me go home.

Jerry passed through the heated atmosphere of the conference room, the space filled with the sound of computer exhausts humming out hot air.

Jerry stepped towards the door that led to the living quarters, but took pause.

If I’m going to get the hell out of here. I should do it now, while everyone is distracted with what just happened. I could make it to the lift and take it to the top. Sun’s fob should let me access the controls.

Jerry changed direction and headed out into the cellblock. The first cell now contained both the batling and Lucas, separated by a mesh of steel.

The batling was stooped over on the floor, its wings wrapped around itself. It was obviously healing after being fired upon. The Irishman stared down at the creature silently, but glanced upwards when he noticed Jerry.

“You off then, are you, lad?”

Jerry stopped outside the cell and looked in. “What?”

Lucas smiled, although it lacked his usual cheeriness. “You’re leaving, I take it?”

“I…”

“It’s okay, lad. Get going while you can. Things aren’t going to get any better around here.”

Jerry frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean the death of that poor security guard will only be the first of many. This place is a madhouse and the inmates want blood.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Not I,” said Lucas. “This ugly little blighter on the floor. He’s just getting started.”

“How do you know that?”

“Let’s just say I know his type. All ‘humanity will fall’ this and ‘mankind will burn in hell’ that type of nonsense. Nothing original, but serious all the same.”

Jerry looked down at the wounded creature and wondered how it could possibly be a threat to mankind. It was no bigger than a koala bear.

“Who the hell are you?” Jerry asked Lucas.

“Just an interested third-party. I have a vested interested in the outcome of this damnable pit, hence my presence in this festering hole.”

Jerry shook his head, rolled his eyes. “Dude, why you got to be all ‘riddle me this?’ Stop talking bollocks.”

Lucas grinned. “You’ve become quite the man, since I saw you last Jerry-lad. I see your heart. It swells with a courage once absent.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you well, from a time forgotten by all but the most perceptive, but it’s of no importance in this place and time, lad. What’s important is that the angry little monster currently sleeping on the ground between us will soon be well again, and when he is it would be better to be rid of this place. My advice to you would be to hurry up and get in that lift. Go home and face your punishment. Life may still hold promise for you.”

“How do you know about me? How do you know the things that I have done?”

Lucas ran his fingertips across the mesh of the fence. He blinked slowly. “When faced with a man, I have little difficulty in reading the verses of his soul. Your past, your present—they are etched into your mind and body. And when read together, they hold glimmers of your future. Which is why I am telling you one more time to flee this place. I fear you will not live if you do not, lad. No one would blame you for running.”

Jerry frowned. He had planned on leaving anyway; that was why he was in the cellblock after all: heading for the elevator. Lucas’s warning only added to the argument for trying to escape.

“Don’t worry, I’m going. You take care, weird Irish guy.” Jerry turned and walked away. He fingered the rubber fob in his pocket, making sure it was still there. Then he headed down the corridor.

Just running away as usual. But what bleeding choice do I have?

Further on down there was a bloodstain. It covered the floor in a congealed pool. Jerry stepped around it squeamishly. There were also several patches of chipped concrete where bullets had doubtlessly struck.

The elevator was just up ahead, past the cell with the horrible-looking vampire. It snarled and hissed at him as he past, beat at the glass with its twisted hands.

Gonna be really glad to get away from that nasty sod. He looks like wants to rip me to pieces.

Wake up, dude, that’s exactly why the thing is locked up in a hole in the ground. It’s not because it cheated the house at Vegas. It’s a freaking monster.

Something caught Jerry’s attention.

Wolfie sat up against the glass of his cell, wagging his tail and panting. When he saw Jerry pass by, he began to wiggle excitedly.

“Hey, Wolfie. How you doing?”

Wolfie yipped.

“I still can’t believe they have you locked up down here with a monster like that thing next door. You’re not a monster like him, you’re just an animal.”

Jerry thought about Lucas’s words and wondered if Wolfie would be alright once things turned bad. Was something bad really going to happen, or was the Irish guy just messing with him?

Can I really walk away and leave everyone here to die?

Run away, dude. You’re not walking, you’re running.

Wolfie jumped up on his hind legs and pawed at the glass with his front ones. His long pink tongue slurped across the glass.

Jerry smiled. “I wish I could take you out of here with me, buddy. I bet you’d love it in the woods up there on the surface.

Jerry’s smile faded and a sigh escaped his lips. He placed his hand against the glass and Wolfie licked at it from the other side.

I’ll probably be dead before I get within a mile away from this place.

Is there even any point trying to escape?

Wolfie never managed it and he’s been here for years. Poor guy. Wonder when’s the last time he even got out of that cell, or even had anyone to play with.

Jerry reached into his pocket and pulled out the blue rubber fob. He moved over to the LED screen for Wolfie’s cell and placed the fob against it.

I must be crazy.

The screen flashed green and beeped. Menus came up on screen and Jerry started to jab at them, trying to navigate towards what he was looking for. Then he found the command he wanted.

CELL ENTRY.

He prodded the screen.

OPEN CELL. YES? NO?

He paused, finger hovering.

Then he pressed YES.

There was a shrill ringing, emanating from above the cell. The glass barrier began to slide. Once it opened up to a gap of about four feet it stopped sliding. The ringing halted.

Jerry stared into the cell.

Wolfie stared right back, his ears pricked up like the tips of spears.

• • •

Kane’s computer blinked. His eyes narrowed. He glanced up at Rimmer and Gorman and then leapt out of his seat.

“What is it?” Rimmer asked, his hand instinctively moving over his holstered .44.

Kane shoved past the two of them, heading for the door. “Someone’s opened up cell number 5. I did not authorise that.”

“Who?” asked Rimmer.

“Sun Dennison.”

“But she’s in the infirmary. She couldn’t be up on her feet yet.”

Race looked back at them as he flung open his office door. “Exactly.”

• • •

Jerry stepped forwards into the gap between the glass barrier and the wall. Wolfie padded backwards, looking both curious and nervous—almost cowering. Up close, Jerry realised he had underestimated the size of the beast. Wolfie was closer to the size of a pony than a dog. It was clear by the animal’s body language that he was unused to someone being inside his cell. His fur had spiked up and his shoulders narrowed.

It’s his territory.

Jerry considered backing out of the cell and closing it again, if only because of the smell. The stench inside the cell was primal, beastly. It made his eyes water. Jerry looked down at a bundle of blankets that formed Wolfie’s bed and saw insects and lice. He also saw something else.

“Is that…”

Jerry reached down towards the blankets.

Wolfie let out a low, rising snarl.

Jerry slowed his movement, held out a hand. “It’s okay, boy. I’m not going to hurt you. Easy does it.”

Wolfie’s snarling lowered but did not stop completely.

Jerry grabbed the rubber ball amongst the rumbled sheets and straightened up with it in his hands.

Wolfie hopped backwards, lowered on his haunches, his rear in the air. If not for the wagging tail, Jerry might have thought the animal was about to pounce.

Wolfie yipped excitedly.

“You like that, don’t you, boy? You like to play with your ball.”

Wolfie wagged his tail faster.

Jerry threw the ball. It sailed down towards the back of the cell and hit the rear wall, bouncing back the way it had come.

Wolfie raced after the ball and leapt in the air as it almost sailed over his head. He spun around with the newly-captured prize in his mouth and flopped down on his belly, loosing the ball so that it rolled back to Jerry’s feet.

Jerry bent down and picked up the ball, held it in the air.

“You wanna go again?”

Wolfie reared up ecstatically and waited for the ball to be thrown again.

“You’re just a dog, aren’t you? Is the reason you’re down on subbasemnt 10 just because you took a chunk out of that asshole, Kane? I bet you were up on subbasement 1 before he came along.”

Wolfie wagged his tail, barked at Jerry.

Jerry threw the ball. This time he threw it harder and added spin, trying to add a bit of variety for Wolfie to enjoy. The ball bounced off the rear wall and this time it flew far over Wolfie’s head and back towards the front of the cell.

Jerry giggled at the sight of the huge beast sliding on its paws before spinning around excitedly and giving chase in the opposite direction. Wolfie threw himself across the cell like a bat out of hell, almost taking Jerry off his feet.

“Hey, Wolfie, stop. Slow down.”

The ball continued racing through the air and flew out of the gap between the barrier and the wall. Wolfie immediately followed, wagging his tail dementedly. Seeing that he had just inadvertently let the animal loose, Jerry sprinted out after him, urgently calling his name.

“Wolfie! Wolfie, back in your cell, before they-”

There was the sound of gunfire.

Wolfie flew sideways across the concrete floor. Jerry put his hands up and saw that Rimmer and Kane were standing in the corridor. Kane had a mean looking revolver pointed out in front of him.

Jerry looked left and saw Wolfie’s large form panting on the ground and bleeding. His pained whimpers filled the cramped corridor.

“Wolfie!” Jerry attempted to rush to the animal’s side but Kane shouted him to a halt.

“You stay right where you are, you son of a bitch. One move and I’ll put you down too.”

Jerry turned to face the General. There were tears in his eyes.

Kane glared at him but kept his gun trained on Wolfie. He marched forwards, approaching the fallen animal he had just shot. “I’ve been waiting for an excuse to put this mongrel down.”

“No,” Jerry shouted. Ignoring Kane’s threats, he ran over and stood in front of the General, trying to stop him. “It was my fault,” Jerry cried. “We were just playing ball and I threw it too hard. Please, just leave him alone. He might still be okay.”

Kane grinned. He nodded as if he understood.

Then Kane struck Jerry in the side of his head with the butt of his gun.

Jerry’s legs folded and he collapsed onto his side, moaning and crying. His blurry gaze met Wolfie’s as the two of them lay on the cold ground, suffering and alone; far away from their homes.

Wolfie whimpered. His eyes focused intently on Jerry as his pink tongue lolled out between his jaws. Jerry reached out, managed to place a hand on Wolfie’s snout. There was a brief wag of the animal’s tail and Jerry felt a lick against his wrist.

Then Kane stood over the animal and fired another shot.

Jerry fought back tears as he watched Wolfie die.

Chapter Twenty-One

Andy stood up at Sun’s bedside. “Was that a gunshot?”

Sun said nothing. She was sleeping.

There was another distant gunshot.

Andy sighed. “I really hate this place.”

He took off, heading out of the infirmary and into the conference room. Dr Gorman was standing around, looking irritated with her arms folded.

“What’s going on?” Andy asked her.

Gorman tutted and shook her head. “That young buffoon you brought along with you has just jeopardised the entire safety of the facility.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the fool opened up one the cells.” Her eyes narrowed. “With your wife’s access fob, no less.”

Andy didn’t understand. He needed to see for himself. He raced out of the conference room and into the cell block. What he saw didn’t alleviate his confusion, it added to it.

Something lay on the floor dead, bleeding and covered in thick matted fur. Jerry was on his knees with his hands cuffed behind his back, Rimmer standing behind him with a pissed-off look on his face.

Kane was standing over the dead animal with a smoking revolver in his hand. The look on his face was almost trance like.

“What the hell is going on?”

Rimmer glanced up at Andy. “Stay there, Mr Dennison. You’re wayward companion has just screwed-up big time.”

Andy shook his head.

What the hell is going on?

Rimmer elaborated. “Kid opened up cell 5 and let the dog out.”

“The bastards killed him,” Jerry yelled. “They had no reason to. He was just chasing his ball. The…the bastards.”

“Shut your goddamn mouth.” Rimmer struck Jerry in the back of the head with the butt of his pistol. Jerry lurched forward and flopped onto his face with his hands behind his back.

Andy stepped forward. “Hey, you don’t hit someone in handcuffs.”

Rimmer pointed his gun at Andy.

Andy sneered. “What, you going to shoot me as well? For what?”

“For bringing this shit to my doorstep.”

“Put the gun down, Sergeant,” said Kane, walking over to join them. “Mr Dennison, I suggest you step very carefully. The boy you so vehemently vouched for has just released a subbasement 10 captive from its cell. If the situation had escalated further, we would all be encased in concrete right now.”

“He was only on subbasement 10 because you hated him, you Nazi fuck.” Jerry’s words were muffled by the concrete against his face.

Kane didn’t look away from Andy, but his words were addressed to Jerry. “Mr Preston, your recent actions qualify as a terrorist attack by a foreign national. Your actions could have seriously compromised this facility and its agenda. Therefore, Sergeant Rimmer is going to incarcerate you under the terms of The Patriot Act of 2001. You will remain in custody for whatever time I deem fit.”

Jerry spat out the side of his mouth. The saliva was mixed with blood. “Do what you gotta do, bitch.”

“You can’t be serious,” Andy said. “He’s not a terrorist. He’s just a kid.”

“A kid who just let a goddamn werewolf out of its cell,” said Rimmer, he grabbed the cuffs behind Jerry’s back and yanked the boy to his feet aggressively.

Jerry cried out in pain as he shoulders were yanked about in their sockets, but he wore a defiant mask on his face and even seemed to smirk. “It’s okay, Mr Dennison. These dickheads didn’t get enough muff when they were younger so they have to take it out on innocent people. You should feel sorry for them really; especially this brain-dead prick.” He nodded at Rimmer.

Rimmer punched Jerry in the stomach, making spit fly out of his mouth as he doubled over. “We can make this as easy or as hard as you like, mate.”

“Don’t hit him again,” said Andy.

“Or else what?”

“Or else you’ll see.”

Rimmer just smirked and dragged Jerry away, down the corridor in the direction of the elevator.

“Take him to my office,” Kane said. “I’ll deal with him later.”

“Roger that.”

Kane turned his attention back to Andy. “Now, Mr Dennison, the only question remaining is whether or not you had anything to do with this.” He produced one of the blue rubber fobs from his breast pocket. “This is, after all, your wife’s access fob, yes?”

Andy shrugged. “I didn’t even know that Jerry had taken it. My wife nearly died. I was by her side.”

Kane rolled his upper lip over his lower lip; nodded very slowly. “Perhaps you were. I hope for your sake I do not find out otherwise.”

“What are you going to do with Jerry?”

“Nothing that is any longer your concern. I made it very clear to you that I would not tolerate nonsense and that the boy was your responsibility. You have let yourself down, Mr Dennison. You gave me your word you would keep Mr Preston in line.”

Andy sighed. What could he say? Whatever madness may have overtaken Jerry, he had indeed released a dangerous animal from its cage.

“Just let the boy go. Send him home to face the music. There’s no need to come down so hard on him.”

Kane glanced at the dead animal on the ground. “I beg to differ. Now, if I were you, I would return to your wife. We will discuss this again at a later occasion. I’ll summon you.”

Andy crossed his arms. “Fine, but I’ll tell you right now that I am taking my wife and leaving. I can’t work with you people.”

Kane grinned like an alligator. “Return to your wife, Mr Dennison. I’ll decide later if you can leave or not.”

“We’re not your prisoners,” Andy spat.

“Mr Dennison, everything and everybody stuck down this hole is a prisoner, whether they realise it or not. And nobody leaves unless I say they can.”

Kane spun on his heel and walked away, just as two security guards approached carrying mops and buckets and an extra-large body bag fit for a werewolf.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Andy headed through the conference room and back into the infirmary. When he got there, there were a couple nurses milling about, and he asked them if his wife had woken while he’d been gone. He’d only been gone ten minutes but it felt like longer.

“We haven’t checked in on her,” said the nurse. “We thought you were still with her.”

Andy wasn’t happy to hear that, but he had left without informing anyone, so didn’t feel he had the ammunition to complain.

“Was that a couple of gunshots I heard?” asked the nurse.

Andy sighed. “Yes, but everything is under control.”

“Thank God for that.” The nurse smiled and went back to her duties.

Before Andy made it to Sun’s room, he bumped into Dr Chandelling.

“Ah, Mr Dennison. I was hoping to bump into you.”

“You were? Why?”

“I learned something about our Irish guest.”

“Lucas?”

Dr Chandelling nodded enthusiastically. “All of the previous tests I conducted were fruitless. Then I had the idea of running his face through the NSA and CIA databases. I figured if we can’t find out anything about his insides, we could see if there’s anything we can find about his outside—his identity. You see, I found that by cross-checking-”

Andy waved a hand. “Okay, okay. What is it you found?”

“Of course. I’ll get to the point.” Dr Chandelling mumbled something else before producing a small tablet from the large side pocket of his lab coat. “Here, take a look.”

Andy squinted at the shiny screen and saw a black and white photograph of a white man standing next to what seemed to be an African warlord.

“This is Lucas in Sierra Leone during operation Khukri in 2000. The man with him is Abdullah Gborie; one of the key members of the rebel RUF forces.” Chandelling swiped his finger on the tablet and changed the picture. “Here Lucas is again in 2007 with Atiyah Abd al-Rahman, second in command of Al-Qaeda. Here he is a third time during the Columbine shootings. You see, there, in the background.”

Lucas was indeed present in the background of the picture, nestled between a group of onlookers.

Andy shook his head. “I don’t understand. How could he have been present during so many awful situations? How could he know they were going to happen? Coincidence maybe?”

“I thought you might play Devil’s advocate, so…” Dr Chandelling typed something into his table before turning it back around so that Andy could see. “I thought I would show you this picture last.”

Andy’s eyes almost popped out of his skull. “Is that…is that Adolf Hitler?”

“Yes? And that’s Lucas standing right behind him. The CIA have never been able to identify the man in the picture before. He has remained a mystery.”

“And now we have him locked up down the hall.”

Chandelling nodded slowly. “There are two things to be gleaned from this. Number one is that Lucas has been present at several truly awful human events—genocides and mass murders. Number two; I will allow you to come to a conclusion on your own.”

Andy stared at the tablet for a few moments; looked at the spitting image of Lucas standing behind the Fuehrer. Then it came to him. “He hasn’t aged. He looks exactly the same in this photograph of World War Two as he does now.”

“Bingo! Absolutely fascinating, wouldn’t you agree?”

Andy rubbed at his eyes with his palms. He felt exhausted. “I need to speak with my wife,” he said. “I need to think this through.”

“Of course,” said Chandelling. “I hear young Nessie is in the library. I will join her there.”

Andy waved his hand. “I’ll see you there later, once I’ve spoken with Sun.”

But when Andy reached his wife’s room, Sun wasn’t there.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Lucas clung to the steel-mesh fence and watched as the batling unfurled its wings on the other side. It still had not yet fully recovered from its injuries, but had little ways to go until it was once again restored to full health.

And then the fun and games will no doubt begin.

Lucas sighed. His presence here had been of his choosing, but as time passed by he was growing apprehensive.

Just stuck here waiting for the trailers to end.

The batling opened its eyes and glanced around. When its baleful gaze fell upon Lucas; its eyes opened yet wider.

“Youuuuu!”

Lucas nodded. “Aye, ‘tis me.”

“It has been…an age.”

Lucas folded his arms, pressed his forehead up against the steel mesh and sent a spark through it. “It has indeed been some time. Yet our re-acquaintance has come about far too quickly for my liking.”

The batling stretched out its wings, rolled its head on its shoulders with an audible crack, and then grinned wide. “I remember the first time that we met: Those glorious days in Gomorrah. You were magnificent. Your lust for agony, your thirst for human blood equal only to our own insatiable desires. You were the angel of death, while we were the bearers of destruction.” The batling’s eyes rolled back in its head and its tongue escaped its lips and tasted the air. “The despair that ran through the city at our hands was orgasmic.”

Lucas closed his eyes, not to reminisce but to forget—to force away the images that rushed through his mind like a blood-red waterfall. “I was a different man back then, old friend. I was ignorant to many things. Many things that are clear to me know.”

“What riddles do you speak of, light bearer?”

“I speak of beauty and strength. I speak of humanity and its ceaseless endeavour to find hope where there is only despair. I speak of Manchester United and Reality TV. It’s not so bad down here.”

The batling spat at the ground furiously. “You speak fallacy. You speak of weakness and disease. The human soul is a blight, and yet you speak soothingly of it?”

“I speak truthfully of it. Your hatred has blinded you.”

“I see all.”

Lucas laughed. “Didn’t see that bullet to the back of your skull so well, did you now?”

“Insolence.”

“I do not serve you, creature, so speak not to me of insolence.”

“You shall be among the bodies when this place turns to dust. Your remains will smoke for all eternity.”

Lucas grinned. “I’m not much of a smoker. Bad habit, you know?”

“Curse you.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m already cursed, but by one far greater than you.”

“You speak of God?” The batling snarled. “You speak of fairy tales. We are the only gods of this earth, and when we reform as one mighty being, the time of humanity will be over.”

Lucas pulled away from the fence and turned his back on his cellmate. “You underestimate humanity, as once did I.”

“I underestimate nothing. Humanity will fall; and you will watch like the impotent being that you are.”

Lucas nodded his head slowly. “We will see.”

“Yesss,” The batling hissed. “All will see as I bathe in the blood of the weak. It will begin soon. The pieces are in play.”

Lucas’s eyes narrowed. He paid closer attention. “What pieces?”

“Pieces that are moving even now to our glorious will—pieces with a sole, glorious intention. You will be among the first to die.”

“Killing me isn’t going to be as easy as you think, but you’re welcome to try.”

“I will do more than try.”

“I expect you will.”

“You will not have long to wait.”

Lucas nodded. “As I fear.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Jerry spat yet more blood from his mouth as the fascist asshole, Rimmer, shoved him down in a chair in Kane’s office. Kane entered the room immediately after and sat opposite him, behind a large cherry wood desk.

The old General leaned back in his chair and gave Jerry an icy stare. “What you have done could have jeopardised this entire facility. If any of these beasts get out into the world, well…things would become a lot closer to the horrors of bad fiction and comic books. You have committed a most deplorable act.”

“It’s you who’s deplorable, dude,” said Jerry, not knowing what the word meant but knowing it fair game. “Wolfie wasn’t dangerous. You kept him in a cell next to that psychopathic sucker all because you didn’t like him. You’re just a bully taking his temper out of defenceless animals. You’re a fucking cliché, mate.”

“Wolfie, as you so tritely put it, was a savage beast.”

“Why? Because he gave you a nip when you first got here? I’m sorry he didn’t take a bigger piece out of your skinny arse.”

Kane banged his fist on his desk. “Your end is within the reach of my fingertips and yet you mock me rather than plead for your worthless life.”

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction. Do what you’re going to do, but the last thing I’m going to do is respect a self-important relic like you. You’re locked inside this giant hole, telling yourself that you’re serving some great purpose, but the fact of the matter is that you’re nothing but a glorified prison warden. You’re just a caretaker.”

Kane leapt out of his seat. “Take him away, Sergeant. Take him to the surface and make sure that I never hear of this idiot ever again.”

“Roger that.” Rimmer grabbed jerry around the neck and pulled him to his feet. He dragged him towards the door and pushed him through into the corridor.

“Keep your goddamn hands to yourself, fudge monkey”

Rimmer shoved harder. “Just keep moving.”

Then Rimmer led Jerry through the office cubicles and desks that surrounded Kane’s office and made up the Nucleus. Various employees watched with interest as he was marched through them like a common criminal through the streets of ancient Rome.

Jerry snarled at them. “Take a good look. Keep tapping away at your keyboards and wasting your lives away. Just don’t forget that you work for an ARSEHOLE!” Jerry tried to shout loud enough that Kane would hear it.

Rimmer smashed his forearm across Jerry’s back and sent him stumbling forward. “One more word and I’ll end you right here.”

Rimmer shoved Jerry towards the elevator and the two of them stepped inside. Despite his outward display of bravado, Jerry’s stomach had turned leaden. The contemplation of his imminent death summoned vomit from his guts and pee from his bladder. It took everything he had to hold down his breakfast.

The doors of the aluminium elevator closed and Rimmer spoke the words, “Surface level.”

“So, do you kill innocent people a lot in your line of work, or is this a special treat? Most people just get their kicks on Call of Duty.”

Rimmer kept his stare forward. His barrel chest moved in and out slowly, like a lizard on a branch watching a fly. “You are not innocent, Mr Preston. You have committed an attack against one of this nation’s secure facilities.”

“I was playing fetch with an over-sized dog. That is my only crime.”

“Perhaps, but it is not my place to judge you.”

“No, you just take orders. You’re more like a dog than Wolfie was.”

Rimmer turned, gave Jerry a warning stare.

Jerry decided to take the warning. If he was going to die, he would rather it be quick and painless, than by the beating hands of a uniformed gorilla.

“Just so you know,” said Rimmer. His tone had taken on a softer edge, his usual non-emotion absent for a fleeting moment. “I take no pleasure in this, but there is no other way. What you have seen has escaped the knowledge of even some past Presidents. The knowledge you hold of this place is greater than the worth of your life. Even so, I regret having to take the life of someone so…naïve.”

“Just because I don’t let my ego and selfishness rule me, doesn’t make me naïve. I would rather die as me than as a butt muncher like you.”

Rimmer laughed. “I like your spirit. Far bigger men have crumbled upon their approaching deaths. I’d wager your big balls will shrink when my gun is pointed in your face.”

Jerry looked down at the floor of the elevator.

The doors opened.

Before them was the dimly-lit staircase leading to the surface. The light bulbs ahead flicked on.

“After you,” said Rimmer, shoving Jerry forward.

Jerry took the steps one at a time, slowly moving higher, towards his fate.

His thoughts turned to his mother, and how an embrace from her would hold value above all else at that moment. He thought of Ben and regrets of decisions made. He thought about fighting back when Rimmer pulled his trigger; dying like a man.

They reached the top of the stairs and the secret hatch opened. The sun shine sliced into the gap like a knife through a turkey’s breast. Jerry shielded his eyes as his pupils burned.

Rimmer shoved Jerry hard from behind, sending him tumbling through the hatch and into the dirt behind. The Sergeant moved up close behind him and unlocked his cuffs.

“Now run,” said Rimmer. “And speak of this to no one. If you do, someone will appear at the foot of your bed and kill you while you sleep.”

• • •

Andy rushed into Sun’s room and looked around, staring at her empty bed and checking the vacant en suite.

“Sun,” he shouted. “Sun, where are you?”

Andy turned back to face the doorway. Dr Chandelling was standing there, looking baffled. “What is it, Mr Dennison?”

“My wife, she’s gone? Where the hell is she? Get the goddamn nurse.”

Dr Chandelling nodded and went to turn away, but he instead froze in place, a horrified look on his face.

Andy caught sight of the man’s fear and spun around. At first he saw nothing, but when he looked upwards…

Sun hung from the ceiling upside down, her face contorted into a snarl. Her tangled hair was dripping sweat.

“Jesus Chr-”

Like a leaping spider upon an ant, Sun flung her body from the ceiling and landed on her husband. The sudden weight of her on Andy’s chest knocked all the breath from his lungs.

Dr Chandelling cried out, almost feminine in his high pitch. From atop Andy’s chest, Sun snarled like a rabid wolf.

“Now, Mrs Dennison, please calm down. You’re having a funny turn. Your injuries…”

“My injuries will be put upon you ten-fold, and all others like you.

Andy reached up for his wife’s shoulders, tried to squeeze her to keep her from hurting herself. She slashed at his face, drawing blood from talons that had not earlier existed.

Sun leapt from Andy’s chest and smashed into Dr Chandelling. He went reeling backwards, colliding with a nurse’s trolley and falling to the floor. Two nurses stood a few feet away, screaming and shouting at what they were seeing. Sun descended upon the women quickly, slashing at their throats and biting at their eyes until there was nothing left but blood-stained pulp and breathless whimpers.

Andy rose to his feet, fighting for breath. “Sun? Christ, what are you doing?”

Sun turned and faced him, blood coating her face like a Halloween mask. She hissed at him like a snake. “I do my master’s bidding. I am to aid in the extinguishing of life and the liberation of ancient armies.”

“Sun, this isn’t you. Try to recognise what you are doing; try to see that what you are doing is madness.”

“The human race is madness. It is a sucking sore on the face of what was once magnificent.”

Dr Chandelling got up from the floor and began edging towards the door. Sun spun to face him and he froze on the spot.

The frightened doctor put his hands above his head. “Now, now, Mrs Dennison, please, calm down.”

Sun laughed mockingly. “Your fear stains you, Doctor. Is your dick not hardened unless presented with a young man to stroke it?”

“Y-you speak nonsense.”

“I speak of Aaron.”

“H-how do you know?”

“Your depravity dances on your skin. I see your lust for the boy and your heartbreak at having left him to his wretched poverty. You have not forgiven yourself, and so you should not. You will burn in hell, catamite.”

“I-I…”

Sun lunged, crossing the room with the speed of a cat. She grabbed Dr Chandelling by his jaw and looked into his eyes. She grinned, blood dripping from her cheeks. She kissed the man hard on the mouth then pulled away, cackling. “So that you may taste a woman before you die.”

Dr Chandelling’s neck snapped like a twig and his body fell limply to the ground. Sun knelt down and began tearing away strips of flesh.

“Sun! Stop!”

Sun glared at Andy with malice in her eyes; not a mere morsel of the woman she had been only hours before.

Andy knew right then that the batling had done something to her. What made him even more certain was the fact that Sun’s bandages had fallen away to reveal a putrid neck wound that pulsed with vile green pus.

Andy’s heart sunk into his chest as he looked at the monster his wife had become. He longed for Sun to return, to talk to him as a lover and friend. Without her presence he suddenly felt unbearably lonely.

He edged towards her; the only person in the room left alive to face her. The bodies of the two nurses and Dr Chandelling lay in their own individual pools of blood.

But then they rose up off the floor and screamed at Andy.

What the hell?

Andy stumbled backwards and almost lost his footing. If he had fallen he would most certainly have been dead as Dr Chandelling quickly set upon him.

Instinctively, Andy grabbed a nearby trolley and yanked it between them as a barrier. Dr Chandelling flung the trolley aside and growled. His eyes were swollen and filled with blood; looked ready to pop right out of his head.

Andy glanced past Dr Chandelling to see Sun and the two nurses exiting the room. Andy longed to chase after his wife, but his route was blocked.

Screw this!

Andy took a swing. He connected with Dr Chandelling’s jaw and rocked the man backwards. Then Andy hooked the man’s legs with a sweep kick and dropped him to the floor like a sack of hammers.

Dr Chandelling immediately began to get up but Andy took the opportunity to flee. He raced across the nurse’s station and into the operating theatre beyond. The room was empty, so he kept on going, kept on running until he made it through into the conference room.

He arrived just in time to see more blood spilled.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Jerry had already chosen a gap in the treeline through which to disappear and was about to start sprinting when Rimmer’s radio squawked.

It was General Kane’s voice coming through the speaker. “Rimmer, where are you? There’s been another breach on subbasement 10. Someone has initiated lock-down.”

Rimmer yanked the radio from the clip on his shirt. “A lock-down? Who initiated it?”

“Unclear. It was one of the floor’s emergency alarms. I need you back here immediately. Assemble your men.”

“Roger that.”

The radio went quiet and Rimmer stood there for a moment, looking unsure of himself.

“What is it?” Jerry asked, turning away from the woods and back towards the secret hatch of the facility.

Rimmer snapped out of his daze. “I told you to get out of here. Go!”

Jerry looked back at the inviting treeline, but found himself standing his ground. “Is something bad happening?”

Rimmer pointed his gun. “Go, kid! Get out of here.”

Jerry shook his head. “Dude, I got no place to be. If something’s going down then I want to help.”

Rimmer scowled. His raggedy beard twitched. “You really don’t want to be here, son.”

“You’re right, I don’t. I would rather be at home with my family—but, shit, you know what? I don’t have any family. The Dennisons are good people. If they’re in danger then I want to help. Plus, I think I might have a chance with Nessie if I come back.”

Rimmer shook his head and squinted. “Kane wants you dead. If you go back down there’s a good chance you won’t ever make it up again, so forget about scoring with Dr Nester.”

Jerry shrugged. “Like I said, I got no place else to be.”

Rimmer lowered his gun. “Fine, come on, we need to go.”

Rimmer raced back into the secret hatch and Jerry hopped in behind him just as it began to close.

The lights in the stairway blinked back on. Rimmer got on his radio and contacted his men. They all already knew of the alert, but none knew what was happening. None of the security staff on subbasement 10 were answering their radios.

Rimmer shook his head. “This ain’t good.”

“Nothing about this place is ‘good’.”

They reached the elevator and Rimmer shouted out “Level 2.”

“Hey, shouldn’t we be going to subbasement 10?”

Rimmer shook his head as the elevator begun to descend. “Subbasement 10 is under lock-down. The elevator won’t go there anymore.”

“So how do we help everyone stuck down there?”

“I’m not sure. We need to try and get a hold of someone to see what’s going on. If we can’t…”

“Don’t say it. You can’t just write off a bunch of people’s lives.”

“We may not have a choice. The inhabitants of subbasement 10 are the most dangerous creatures in the facility. The people down there may already be dead.”

The elevator opened on level 2.

The Nucleus was in uproar. The technicians and analysts, which had occupied the computer stations before, were now running back and forth like headless chickens, passing papers to one another and chatting urgently into headsets. General Kane stood amongst them with a long line of people reporting to him one after the other. When he turned and saw Jerry, he became irate.

“What is he doing here, Sergeant? You were asked to deal with him.”

“I was in the middle of doing so, but something more important came up. What’s happening down there?”

“Somebody hit the panic alarm. That’s all we know so far. Nobody on the floor is answering. We’re just initiating the camera feeds now so that we can see what’s going on.”

Kane headed over to a bank of computer screens set up in a 3x3 grid. A woman sat at a keyboard and was tapping away frantically.

“How much longer?” Kane asked the woman.

“Just bringing up the feeds now, sir.”

The blank screens began to light up one after another: each one displaying an image taken from the subbasement 10 cameras.

Rimmer gasped. “Jesus Christ.”

Jerry shook his head as he tried to work out what he was seeing. The first computer screen showed images of the infirmary. Blood stained every surface. A man sat at a computer desk, yet he thrashed around in his seat like having intermittent seizures.

“Is that Dr Chandelling?” Jerry asked.

Rimmer nodded. “Something seems to have made him crazed. He’s behaving like a wild animal. What is he doing?”

“Looks like he’s entering something into the computer.”

The next screen showed the conference room and that was where the true horror was. Inside the vast room, a small group of people were taking cover behind the various desks. Mr Dennison was among them, as well as a handful of security guards and lab assistants. The security guards were all firing their assault rifles at a target in the centre of the room. The two nurses dodged the gunfire with ease. The way they crouched and leapt was inhuman, more like long-legged insects than people.

“What the hell is happening down there,” said Jerry. “Why are they firing at those nurses?”

“I don’t know,” said Rimmer, “but something concerns me more.”

“What?”

“There,” Rimmer pointed at one of the screens. “Mrs Dennison is alone in the cell block.”

“What is she doing?” Jerry asked.

General Kane stood up straight and snarled. “Isn’t it obvious? That bitch is opening up the cells?”

“Which one?” Jerry asked.

Kane shook his head. “The batling’s.”

• • •

Andy crouched down behind the conference room table and closed his eyes as yet another clatter of gunfire rang out. His ears rang with a tinny whine and his eyes stung as dust and debris filled the air.

Beside him crouched a group of Dr Gorman’s lab assistants and four security guards, including Corporal West. Each of the guards took turns popping up from cover and firing a quick burst from their assault rifles.

The nurses were a difficult target, leaping around with impressive agility and hurling flat screen monitors and keyboards across the room.

“I need to get my wife,” Andy yelled out above the gunfire. “Where did she go?”

“I saw her head out into the cellblock,” said West. “There’s no way to get to her until we deal with these two nurses. What the hell is wrong with them anyway?”

“They’ve been infected or possessed by the batling.”

West glanced down at a dead office worker at his feet, throat torn asunder. “They’re like animals.”

Andy nodded. “Yes, they are. But one of those animals is my wife. I need to help her.”

“I doubt that you can.”

“A doubt is not a certainty.”

“Then go. I’ll cover you.”

Andy nodded. “Thank you.”

Then he ran. As soon as he left the cover of the large conference table, West leapt up and fired a dozen rounds from his rifle, keeping the nurses pinned down at the back of the room.

Andy heaved open the steel door that led to the prison cells and quickly slipped through the gap. The lights inside the corridor were flickering, almost as if they bore witness to the madness taking place.

Sun stood ahead, loitering outside the closest cell; the cell that contained the batling and Lucas: Cell 18.

“Sun, don’t do anything stupid.”

“Speak not of Sun, for she weeps in hell.”

Andy swallowed a lump in his throat. “You lie.”

“I speak the delicious truth.”

Inside the cell, the batling rose into the air and began to cackle. “Yesss, yesss, my slave. You speak the truth. Now do my bidding. Release me from bondage and aid me in my quest for blood.”

Sun turned to face the LED screen beside the cell.

Andy released what she was doing and immediately lunged at her. “Stop,” he shouted as he grabbed a hold of her wrist.

Sun struck a blow to Andy’s jaw and sent him spinning to the ground. Stars attacked his vision and made getting up impossible.

Sun came towards him, crouched down beside him, drooling blood and laughing. “You have something I need, lover.”

Andy was powerless as Sun reached down into his pants pocket and snatched the blue rubber fob he’d been keeping there. He clawed at her weakly but the effort led only to more laughter.

The batling howled with pleasure inside his cell.

Andy cried out meekly. “Sun, what are you doing?”

Sun pressed the fob to the LED screen and began accessing the menus. It was not long before an alarm sounded from above the cell.

And the glass barrier began to slide away.

“Yesss, yesss,” hissed the batling. “The time to taste blood is here.”

Andy shook his head, tried to clear his vision. He crawled away on his hands and knees, trying to get away.

But the batling was upon him in an instant. It struck his ribs and sent him onto his back, then hovered over him.

“Your death can wait a single minute, for I have a feast for your eyes to enjoy first.” The batling turned to face Sun. “Kneel,” it bellowed at her. “Kneel before me and accept death.”

Sun got down on her knees and lifted her chin, exposing her throat.

“No! No, please, don’t hurt her.”

The batling cackled. It raised a talon in the air. “Say goodbye to your bitch.”

There was a violent crash.

The batling was knocked clean out of the air by a flying net of steel. Sun, too, was knocked aside.

Andy narrowly avoided being hit from his position on the floor, but he was still left dazed and confused by what was happening.

The steel mesh fence fell on top of the batling, trapping it underneath. Sun lay to the side, unconscious and bleeding from a gash on her forehead. From inside the cell stepped Lucas.

The Irishman offered his hand to Andy. “Looked like you could use a hand, fella. Now let’s get the bejasus out of here.” Lucas yanked Andy, who wasn’t responding, up by his shoulders and set him on his feet. “Come on now, lad. Snap out of it and let’s get out of here.”

Andy blinked. “Sun, I have to get Sun.”

Lucas looked down the hallway, spotted Sun lying on the floor. “Then bloody well get her and hurry up.”

Andy raced down the corridor, dodging around the steel mesh fence that covered the batling. He grabbed Sun around her waist and manoeuvred her onto his shoulder. He took her back down the corridor as quickly as his faltering legs would allow him.

Lucas waited near the steel door at the end of the corridor. He urged Andy to hurry.

As Andy passed by the batling, the steel fence was suddenly thrust up into the air.

The batling rose up and hissed. “You will die.”

“Not today,” said Lucas. “Come on, Andy. Get your arse in gear.”

Andy picked up his pace; the batling hissing at his back urged him on. Several times he felt wind as a swipe of talons narrowly missed the back of his neck.

When he finally made it over to the door, Lucas gave Andy a shove from behind, sending him tumbling to his knees on the floor of the conference room. He barely managed to keep Sun from tumbling from his shoulders and onto her head.

Lucas slammed the heavy steel door shut behind them and joined Andy in the conference room.

The two nurses had finally been dealt with. West and the others in the room quickly came to Andy’s aid.

“What happened out there?” West asked. He nodded at Lucas. “And what is he doing out of his cell?”

“Good to meet you, too, fella.”

Andy eased Sun down on the floor and sat on his knees panting. He waved a hand. “Lucas saved us. He’s…I don’t know what he is…but just don’t shoot him.”

Lucas grinned. “That’s one of the kindest things anybody has ever said about me.”

West nodded to the door. “What’s going on out there? It sounds like a warzone.”

“It is,” said Andy, still panting. “And we need to prepare for battle.”

• • •

Dr Chandelling knew what he was doing was wrong. He fought back every second, throwing his body into fits as he tried to wrest control of his body; but as much as he fought, the buzzing in his head was winning the battle over his being.

He gritted his teeth as his hands worked against his will, typing in commands to the computer in front of him, some invasive force invading his mind and stealing away the information contained there.

He watched in horror as the final command was entered on screen. The worst command he could possibly have given.

Suddenly, Dr Chandelling was back in control of himself. He almost laughed he was so relieved. Immediately he reached for the keyboard, to undo what had just been done, but before he was able, the buzzing in his head returned. It increased and increased until the skin around his skull split open and his brain exploded all over the flashing red monitor.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“We have to help them,” Jerry cried. He watched the events unfold on the television screens, as did Rimmer and Kane. They had seen the batling’s release and the subsequent escape of Andy and Lucas.

“You will do nothing,” said Kane. “You are a nuisance I sought dealt with. Sergeant Rimmer, take him to one of the cells on subbasement 1. We will discuss the matter of his lingering presence, and the fact that you disobeyed an order, later.

Rimmer grabbed Jerry by the cuffs that bound his wrists. “Come on, kid. Let’s make this quick. I have a mountain of shit to climb out off without you dragging me down deeper.”

Jerry didn’t argue. While Rimmer had spared his life once, he held little hope of it happening twice, especially within the boundaries of Kane’s radar.

They re-entered the elevator and headed downwards to subbasement 1. When they stepped out, they were met by a handful of security guards. The men on this floor had only side-arms.

“Sergeant, we’re waiting for orders.”

Rimmer shoved Jerry forwards. “Stand by for now. Take this man to a vacant cell.”

“Yes, sergeant.”

One of the guards reached out to take Jerry but, just as he did so, an alarm began sounding. It was exactly like the siren that had sounded above Wolfie’s cell before it had opened. This time, however, the alarm was coming from above every cell in the cellblock.”

Rimmer shoved Jerry backwards out of the way. “Shit! Men, stand ready. The cells are opening.”

“What, how can that be?” asked one of the guards. “You would have to override the entire system.”

Rimmer checked the magazine in his pistol before holding it pointed down the corridor. “Well, obviously somebody has. Get ready.”

The cells slid open, one after the other, like a cascading wave. The first cell held no movement, but immediately something from the second cell began to emerge. The long black spindly legs made its nature obvious. It was one of the giant spiders.

“I think I just shit myself,” said Jerry.

“I would not blame you,” said Rimmer, opening fire as the spider emerged from its cell.

Rimmer and his men hit home with their gunfire, their target large and bulbous, but they lacked the penetration needed to bring the beast down. As is the nature of a spider, it leapt towards the wall and moved itself up to the ceiling.

Its fellow cellmate quickly expelled itself from the cell and came upon the guards immediately. The men urgently fired on the second spider as a single unit. Their magazines all ran empty at the same time. As each guard fought to reload their rifles with shaking hands, the giant spider on the ceiling dropped down and landed on the man furthest forward.

It pierced the man’s chest with its abdominal stinger, sending him to the ground screaming. He lay there for a moment, writhing back and forth, until a gout of blood exploded from his mouth and his eyes swelled in their sockets. Slowly the guard’s torso expanded, blowing up like a balloon. Then he split open at the ribs and a thick white substance spilt forth from his carcass.

Rimmer strode forward and fired his newly reloaded pistol. He emptied an entire clip into the spider, leaving it without two of its eight legs. It let out a squeal and retreated.

Its cellmate took up the attack.

Rimmer dove aside and the spider struck one of his men. It quickly caught the guard’s skull between its fangs and cracked it like a hollow Easter egg.

Jerry screamed. He scurried down the corridor, back against the wall, wrists still bound behind his back.

Rimmer grabbed him. “Follow me.”

The attacking spider was engaged with the remaining security guards, giving Rimmer and Jerry the opportunity to make their way down the corridor. It was only a matter of feet, however, before they were faced with yet another abomination.

The creature blocking their path was a woman, yet a woman with the body of a serpent. Her skin was grey and olive-green. She hissed at them with a lizard’s tongue.

“It’s a basilisk,” Rimmer said, cursing under his breath. He fired off a shot, striking the snake-woman in her chest and doubling her over.

But within moments she was standing tall once more and approaching again quickly.

Rimmer glanced around, his usually unflappable manner quickly melting away. “In here,” he said, shoving Jerry into one of the cells.

Jerry tripped and fell to the ground, which turned out to comprise of sharp sand. Rimmer remained outside the cell, quickly tapping away at the LED screen on the wall.

The basilisk closed in on Rimmer, swiped a talon at his face.

Rimmer dodged the blow, abandoned the LED screen, and combat rolled into the cell beside Jerry. The basilisk slithered into the entrance and hissed at them.

Just when they seemed totally fucked, the cell door slid closed, separating them from the horrors in the corridor.

The basilisk swiped at the glass hatch at the top of the door, glaring in at them.

“It’s going to get in here,” Jerry said. “It’s going to get us.”

Rimmer leaned up against the wall. “No, it’s not. Three-inch steel. We’ll be fine.”

Jerry picked up a handful of sand and let it flow through his fingers. “Yeah, long as we don’t step foot outside again. I don’t see how being trapped in here makes us any less screwed. That’s a pretty big knife you have strapped to your belt. Can I have it? I don’t have a weapon.”

“No, it’s my backup.”

“Well, what about that other knife, strapped to your thigh. Can I have that one?”

“No that’s my backup to my backup.”

Jerry sighed. “What is this place anyway? A giant sand pit?”

“It used to house a nest of scorpions. We sent them to down to Albuquerque.”

“Albuquerque?”

“They’re working with DARPA to develop high-tech armour systems made from chitin. They requisitioned any creatures that have natural armour capabilities.”

Jerry watched as the basilisk moved away from the glass hatch, probably to find easier prey. “Why do you guys move the creatures around so often? Isn’t it risky?”

“Yes,” Rimmer said. “But it’s necessary.”

“Why?”

“To prevent power struggles.”

Jerry stood up on the sand and found a place to sit on a nearby boulder. “Power struggles?”

“Yes. There are a lot of internal politics at play in Deus Manus. There was a time when the facilities with the more dangerous prisoners would take liberties over the others. During the Cold War we discovered the Moscow facility was working with Soviets to try and train the inhabitants of their facilities. They were trying to tame an army of monsters to do their bidding. They were getting results as well.”

“Shit, that’s pretty crazy. What happened in the end?”

“When it came to the attention of the Deus Manus senior council, the decision was made to destroy the Moscow facility. An operative was sent in undercover and the self-destruct sequence was initiated. The Moscow facility is no more and the Soviets are gone. Since then, prisoners are regularly exchanged and the council keeps a tighter leash on its various facilities.”

Jerry went up to the hatch and peered outside. All of the guards were now probably dead; the spiders feasting on their flesh. The basilisk was slithering up and down the corridor while various other beasts mingled around the cellblock.

“What’s going to happen now? Jerry asked. “We can’t get out of here, can we?”

Rimmer was sat on another of the boulders and was checking his large pistol. “Not unless someone lets us out from the other side. Hopefully Kane will send down a team to clear the floor. If not…”

“Then they’ll do that concrete thing and fill the entire floor in.”

“Pretty much. Let me try the radio. I’ll see where things lie.”

Rimmer clicked on his radio and clasped the talk button. It crackled for a moment and then Rimmer spoke.

“Sergeant Rimmer requesting a status update. Rimmer, requesting a status update. Subbasement team 1 is down. I am currently pinned down in cell 1; multiple hostiles. Civilian present. Requesting immediate rescue.”

“Negative,” came the reply.

Rimmer cleared his throat. “General Kane. What is the status of the facility?”

“FUBAR. Every single cell has been opened. All prisoners are loose. Situation is non-salvageable. Evacuation window is one hour. Over and out.”

The radio went dead.

“General Kane… General Kane, please respond. General Kane…” Rimmer threw his radio into the sand. “Damn it!”

Jerry turned away from the glass. “What is it?”

“Kane cut my radio. The facility is being evacuated.”

“Great,” said Jerry. “Are they coming to get us?”

Rimmer shook his head. “No. Only levels 1-4 will be evacuated. All of the subbasements will be destroyed.”

Jerry grabbed his head with both hands. “What? How do you know that?”

“Because Kane said the evacuation window was one hour. When that hour is up, anyone left inside will be dead.”

“That psycho fuck.”

Rimmer shook his head and shrugged. “Kane has no choice. The facility has been taken.”

“Well, then let’s take it back.”

Rimmer laughed. “With what? You, me, and my Desert Eagle?”

“You have some men still alive on subbasement 10 with the Dennisons. Andy and Sun have lived through this type of thing before. We need to get to them.”

“How? We’re trapped in this cell.”

“Then we need to find a way out,” said Jerry. “And fast!”

“Either that,” said Rimmer. “Or we die in less than one hour.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Dr Gorman sat in her lab and stared at the screen in disbelief. All of her lab assistants had hurried into the conference room to lend assistance, but she had stayed right where she was.

She had known from the start that letting outsiders into the Spiral had been a terrible idea and now her assertions were bearing fruit. Her biggest mistake was allowing herself to be swayed by Kane and his talk of future rewards.

Rewards will mean nothing after this. We’ll be dishonoured for allowing the facility to be so badly compromised. That fool. Kane’s lack of precaution will be the death of my career.

Again she began to regret her past choices, the ones which had led her there.

After losing her mother—her only surviving relative—to stage 4 cancer, Thandi had been intent on becoming a medical researcher. She longed to add her name alongside Pasteur and Jenner, and other great minds who had improved the health of the entire world. She wanted to make sure that no other young girls lost their mothers like she did.

Then a fellow student raped her at a party and her plans fell apart.

As did her entire world.

In the hazy, semi-lucid days that followed, Thandi stopped socialising completely, frightened of every stranger’s glance in her direction. She confined herself to her room and her books. She stopped going to class, choosing to get work brought back via a friend. For days on end she locked herself in her dormitory and became more and more withdrawn. Until she reached a point where things could not continue.

Somehow she survived the third-story fall to the concrete below, a broken hip being the only immediate consequence.

The lasting consequences were far more severe. She was placed into mandatory care; her studies critically suffering as a result. Now she lacked even the hope of a brighter future.

Deus Manus had reached out to her in hospital. They’d been watching her progress for a while, impressed by her medical acumen. In her vulnerable state of mind, their offer to take her out of the world and allow her to devote herself to science had been a way out of her nightmare. She readily accepted their offer to join.

Two days later, the boy who had raped her was hit by a garbage truck and killed. Six months later, she graduated College with full honours. A day after that, a black SUV pulled up outside her dorm and took her away forever. She had been at the Spiral ever since.

And now it looks like I might die here.

From inside her lab, Thandi could see that all ten cellblocks had been breached. How such a thing was even possible, she did not know, but she knew what Kane’s response would be. Any minute now, the corridors would flood with cement, sealing everyone to their doom.

And what will I have left behind? Nothing, that’s what. I thought Deus Manus was saving my life, but really they took it away. I never found a cure for cancer, I never had a real friend, I never loved a man… I’ll never have children.

I’ve wasted my life.

No more.

I will make Deus Manus pay.

Dr Gorman logged on to her computer and got to work. After so many years at the Spiral, she knew the computers almost better than anyone. The only person who knew more about the IT systems was Dr Chandelling.

And now he’s lost his mind.

Which makes me the master of this facility.

***

Kane sent another load of office workers up to the surface in the elevator and waited for it to come back down. A helicopter was en route to airlift everybody down to Albuquerque. As the head of the facility, Kane would not leave until the very last moment. He checked his watch: only 45 minutes left.

It was regrettable that not everyone could be evacuated. The fact that Sergeant Rimmer and a majority of the staff on other levels were beyond rescue was upsetting, but there was no viable way to help them. The risk was too great. Everyone at the Spiral knew that their lives would be deemed expendable should the worst happen.

And the worst has most definitely happened.

I still don’t even know what went wrong.

All I know is that it started with the Dennisons.

The elevator returned to the floor and Kane sent another load of people inside. “As soon as you exit the facility,” he told them, “remain in the clearing and await extraction.”

A security guard came up beside Kane. “I’ve swept the floor and checked in with Conway and Hartfield on levels 3 and 4. They have another twenty ready to go as soon as the elevator is free.”

Kane glanced around at the panicked faces in the Nucleus. “How many left on this floor?”

“A dozen. One more load after this one and we should be fully evacuated on this floor.”

Kane nodded. “Then I will relocate to level 4 and work on getting everybody out of there next.”

“Yes sir, I will let Conway know.”

Kane watched the last people pile into the elevator and waited for the doors to close.

Yet they remained open.

Kane strode over to them. He glanced at the employees inside. “Has anyone commanded the elevator to stay open?

People shook their heads.

Kane huffed. “Doors close… Doors close… Surface level.”

The doors remained open.

Kane grabbed a hold of one of the doors and yanked, but it held in place firmly.

Kane raised his voice into a shout. “ELEVATOR CLOSE DOORS NOW.”

The elevator did nothing.

Kane grabbed his nearest man: a tall security guard with a fuzzy blonde moustache. “Linden, run a diagnostic on the elevator. Why aren’t the doors closing?”

Linden ran over to the nearest computer station and began typing away. After a few moments, his brow wrinkled in confusion and he glanced at Kane uncertainly.

“What is it?” Kane demanded.

“The elevator has been placed into maintenance mode. All functions are on hold until it’s released.”

“Then release it already.”

“I can’t, sir. The access to the elevator’s commands has been locked. I can’t get into the menus.”

Kane marched over to the computer. “Stand aside.” He typed in his own login details and went into the elevator’s control systems. As soon as he tried to enter the base menus he was met with the message: ACCESS DENIED. FULL SYSTEM LOCK DOWN INITIATED. CONSULT ADMINISTRATOR.

Kane thumped his fist down on the keyboard, dislodging the Ctrl chiclet. “I am the administrator, you son of a bitch.”

“Let me try something, sir.” The security guard logged back into the system and ran a few commands. After a moment he straightened up from the keyboard and once again creased his brow in confusion. “It seems that Dr Gorman on subbasement 10 initiated the lock down. She’s reset access privileges so that no one can override her commands.”

“How could she do that?”

The security guard shrugged. “Dr Gorman and Dr Chandelling were both here when the new systems were installed. They know it better than anybody else here.”

“Are you saying that my subordinates have more control over this facility than I do? That, right now, Dr Gorman is in charge?”

Linden leaned back in his chair and sighed. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Kane shook his head and gritted his teeth. “What the hell is that woman doing? She’s going to kill us all.”

• • •

Dr Gorman grinned. The job was done. Nobody was going to leave her to die in a hole without her taking them with her. Despite her grim fate, she felt better knowing that her final act had been one of strength and control. She would be abused by no one, lest they suffer the dire consequences.

The man who had raped her had learned that lesson when the garbage truck had hit him. She suspected Deus Manus had been behind it, which meant he had died as a direct result of what he had done to her. Karma had been at work that day, and it would wield its sharp-edged sword again today.

For now, she would join up with the others in the conference room. At least she had the opportunity to not die alone.

And at least I will get to see the deaths of the people responsible for this catastrophe. The Dennisons are going to pay…

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“What are you doing?” Jerry asked Rimmer.

The sergeant was fiddling with the back of his radio with a combat blade he had produced from a scabbard on his belt.

“I’m trying to get inside the radio. All of the units have a regulator chip inside them. It allows us to deactivate them remotely should one go missing. It’s a security feature and Kane just activated the chip in this one. If I can remove the chip, I should be able to get it working again. I might be able to contact my men.”

“And get us the fuck out of here?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Can I help?”

Rimmer pressed the tip of his knife into an exposed screw and began turning. “It should only take a minute. Best thing you can do is step away from the door. No point attracting any of those things.”

Jerry nodded and stepped away from the hatch. He went and sat back on his boulder and twiddled his thumbs.

“I really screwed up my life these past few months.”

Rimmer laughed. “None of that is going to matter if those things get inside here.”

“It’s not even that which bothers me. I’ve been expecting to die since the day I got brought down here and, surprisingly, I’ve been okay with that. What upsets me is that I won’t get to make certain things right.”

Rimmer was still unscrewing the radio unit, but he glanced upwards. “The person you stole from in the UK?”

“No, fuck him. I have a brother. I messed things up with him. I would have liked to have said sorry.”

“You may get a chance yet. Take it from someone who has faced certain death before and lived to tell the tale. Sometimes the heat of the moment stops us looking forward.”

“So you think we’ll get out of this alive.”

Rimmer shook his head. “No.”

“Oh.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re going to stop trying. Worst thing a man can do is lie down and accept death. God gave us life. It’s our duty to preserve it.”

“You believe in all that? I mean, you’ve killed people before and you guard a prison full of monsters. You still think there’s a God.”

“Absolutely,” he said. “I just think that God has his hands a little fuller than we would believe. As much as I believe in Him, I also believe that there’re evil forces that work against Him.”

“So you’re saying that there’s, like, an evil God as well?”

“People like to question God for letting bad things happen. Doesn’t it make more sense that it’s because he isn’t in total control. I’ve always believed that God does what he can but that there are forces which seek to bring him down. Seeing the abominations in this prison has only increased my belief of that.”

Jerry sighed. “I don’t know what to believe. All I know is that the world was a pretty sucky place before you showed me all of the monsters you have locked up down here.”

Rimmer raised his fist in victory as the back panel of the radio popped off and fell into the sand. There was an immediate burst of static letting them both know that the unit was once again live.

Rimmer started trying to reach people right away. He pressed the transceiver button and spoke in clipped tones. “This is Rimmer. Report back. Report back.”

There was no answer from any of the people Rimmer tried.

“You think everybody is dead?” Jerry asked.

“I hope not.” Rimmer twisted the dial on the handset a few more times and then rubbed his beard as if he had a thought coming to him. “Hold on a minute… Yes, almost. There!”

The radio speaker broke free of static and picked up the clear sound of voices.

“Who is that?”

“It’s the conference room,” said Rimmer. “I’ve tuned into the intercom on the desk. I think… I think it’s one of my men, West, and… Is that Andy Dennison?”

Jerry nodded. “Definitely. Let him know we’re here.”

“I can’t. We can only listen.”

“So how does this help us?”

“It doesn’t. But at least we know we’re not the only ones alive. If we sit tight, things might turn towards the better.”

Jerry frowned. The sound of slithering and creeping beasts in the corridor told him otherwise. He placed his head in his hands and fought the urge to weep. Dying like a man suddenly seemed important.

Why couldn’t I be trapped in a cell with Nessie instead of this arsehole?

Shit, Nessie? Is she okay?

Jerry looked up. “Did you hear Nessie’s voice on your radio? Is she with Mr Dennison?”

They listened for a few moments to the hushed conversation that was going on nine floors below.

Rimmer shook his head. “I hear a couple of my men, Andy Dennison, and a few of Dr Gorman’s lab assistants if I’m not mistaken. No one else though.”

Jerry’s head dropped. “I hope she’s okay.”

“You really like her?”

“She was nice to me; seemed to like me. That’s pretty rare.”

Rimmer placed the radio down on the sand carefully and looked at Jerry. “Seems to me you set out to make people not like you.”

Jerry shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know why I do it. I’m just kind of an obnoxious dork.”

“No, you’re not. You act like an obnoxious dork so that people don’t like you. I think you do that because you can’t take people not liking you for who you really are. You can’t accept rejection so you make sure that nobody gets a chance to learn who you really are. Textbook single-parent upbringing. You feel rejected by your father and you developed natural defences against being rejected by anyone else.”

Jerry huffed. “I didn’t realise you had a side gig as a psychiatrist. How you know so much about me anyway?”

“I pulled up your file when you arrived. British Government only lists a mother for you, no father.”

“And you think you know me because of that?”

Rimmer twiddled with his beard. “No, I think that because I know myself. “I didn’t have a father either. Drifted through life, acting like an asshole, getting in fights, pushing people away. I joined the army just to separate myself from society.”

“So that’s why you’re such a hardass, then?”

“Nope, I’m a hardass because it’s my job to be. If I’m not, people die. I came to terms with who I am a long time ago. It comes with age. Back when I was your age, though, I was pretty screwed up.”

Jerry nodded and spoke quietly. “Are you trying to say I should cheer up, that things will be better in the future? Because I’ve heard all that shit before.”

“I’m no fortune teller. I don’t have a fucking clue what’s going to happen to you in the future. All I know is that you went running back into this hellhole as soon as you realised that the Dennisons might be in danger—people you’ve only known for a couple days. There’s a lot to be said about loyalty and courage like that. Made me realise there’s more to you than a wise-cracking limey.”

Jerry laughed. “Thanks. Guess you’re not the arsehole I thought you were either.”

Rimmer cackled heartily. He grabbed a handful of sand and through it at Jerry. “You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass.”

Jerry was still laughing when there was a thud against the cell door. Both men turned and looked up.

A man stood at the glass hatch, bleeding face pressed up against it.

“What the hell?”

“That’s Newman. I saw him get ripped apart earlier by that spider.”

Jerry looked at the man’s torn open face and swallowed. Then he watched as the Basilisk re-appeared in the hatch. It was holding Newman’s dead body by the neck.

“What’s it doing?” Jerry asked, jumping up and peering out of the glass window.

The basilisk grabbed a hold of Newman’s hand and shoved it against the LED screen beside the cell door.

“Oh, shit,” said Jerry. “It’s accessing the cell. You think she’s going to get in?”

The siren above the cell began to sound and the door unlocked with a clunk.

Rimmer drew his weapon. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure she is going to get in. I also retract my statement about not being a fortune teller. I can see the future very clearly now. We’re both screwed.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Now that all immediate threats were dealt with, Andy turned his mind back to his wife. Sun lay unconscious at his feet, a nasty looking gash along her forehead to match the sickly wound on her neck.

Andy dropped down beside her. “Sun? Sun, wake up?”

West popped a new magazine into his smoking assault rifle and came over. “Is she okay? What happened to her?”

Andy shook his head. “I don’t know. She was like the nurses, possessed or under some sort of mind control. I’ve never seen her act like that. I need to help her.”

“How?”

Andy fought back tears. “I don’t know. She’s been unconscious since Lucas blew the steel fence out of his cell and hit her.”

“Sorry about that, lad.”

“Bring her to my lab,” said Dr Gorman, entering from the rear of the conference room. “There are medical supplies there. I can see what I can do for her.”

Andy craned his neck. “Dr Gorman. I’m so glad you’re okay. Do you think you can help her?”

“Of course. Bring her.”

West helped Andy get Sun up off the floor and they carried her through into the lab complex. The area was completely deserted and seemed eerie without people in lab coats rushing around or staring into microscopes.

“In here,” said Gorman. “Set her down on the examination table over there.”

Andy did as instructed and carried his wife up onto the oversized padded table in the centre of the room—it was obviously wide enough to accommodate the inhuman creatures of the Spiral. Sun murmured softly as they laid her down but she did not awake. Her eyes were swollen behind her eyelids, stretching the delicate skin and making tiny red veins visible.

“What are you going to do for her?” Andy asked.

Dr Gorman quickly came towards them with a syringe pointed in the air. “I’m going to keep her out for the time being. The human body is far better at healing when it’s resting. Mixed with this tranquiliser is a broad-spectrum anti-biotic. Infection is the biggest fear with an open wound like this. Hopefully it will fight off whatever got into her and made her mad as well. Can you remove what’s left of that bandage, please?”

Andy peeled away the rancid shreds of bandage from his wife’s neck and almost gagged as a jet of yellowish pus leaked out.

“The wound is bad. We’ll have to clean it.” Dr Gorman spoke with one of her nearby lab assistants who had survived the encounter in the conference room. The young man set about collecting alcohol wipes and a bottle of rusty coloured liquid, and then he got to work on Sun’s wound.

“So,” said Dr Gorman, “would anybody care to share with me what in damnation is going on in this facility. All of the cells are open, on all floors. General Kane has no doubt set the emergency protocols to begin and we have a mere matter of minutes to live.”

Andy’s eyes went wide. “All of the cells are open? How do you know that? And what do you mean, we’re all going to die?”

Gorman strode across the lab to a desk in the corner. She tapped her sharp index finger against the computer monitor there. “I have a computer. That’s all I need to know what’s going on around here. I accessed the floor cameras and witnessed the cell doors opening myself. I also checked the root directories to see what Kane’s recent activities on the network were.”

“You can’t do that,” said Ward. “Kane will have your job.”

“And perhaps I would care, if not for the fact that Kane entered the facility’s destruction command. The Spiral is about to become a large chunk of concrete beneath the ground.”

Andy felt the colour drain from his cheeks. “We have to get out of here.”

“Impossible. The elevator is on lockdown and there is no way to resume control of it. Even General Kane himself is set to perish.” There seemed to be the glimmer of a smirk on the woman’s face as she said that.

“Well, can’t we stop the destruction sequence?”

Gorman shrugged her shoulders. “Only Kane can do that, I’m afraid. He initiated the sequence and only he can reverse it. It’s his facility after all.”

West sighed. “If all of the cells are open, there’s no way Kane won’t destroy this place. He has to. He took an oath. We all did.”

“I fucking didn’t,” said Andy. “I’m getting my wife out of here, no matter what.”

“A noble sentiment,” said Gorman. “But nobody is getting out of this place; not us, and—more importantly—not the scum that we swore to contain down here.”

“So why the hell did you even bother trying to help my wife? Why give her antibiotics if she’ll be dead within the hour?”

“Because I am a doctor, and it is my duty to provide care. Besides, Kane may well change his mind. If he does not abort the sequence, then he will die right along with everybody else. It’s only at times like these that we can know the true measure of a man. If he has a backbone, we die. If he’s weak and cowardly, then we may just live out the evening.”

• • •

Kane sat in his office and rubbed at his forehead. The men and women outside in the Nucleus were close to panic and the only thing keeping them under control was the handful of loyal security guards who believed as much in the oath they had taken as he did.

It is our duty to die if it means keeping the facility secure. The creatures inside this hole simply cannot be allowed to surface.

It is the only way.

I have no choice.

Still, the deaths of the men and women left inside the Spiral was enough to burden any man’s heart. Many of them had devoted years of their life to the Order and to die now, so hopelessly, was an affront to their loyalty.

It’s all their fault. That English fool letting out the mongrel and then Mrs Dennison letting out the batling. They no doubt had something to do with all of the other cells opening too. Dr Gorman was right. I should have listened to her.

Now Thandi’s locked me in this hole to die with everybody else.

Perhaps I deserve it.

I’m going to die a failure. After so much distinction; this is how things are going to end.

Kane looked at the camera feeds on his computer. He hovered randomly over each thumbnail to bring up the individual feeds. He watched Dr Gorman take control of a small group of survivors on subbasement 10. He saw Rimmer and Jerry cowering inside a cell on subbasement 1. He witnessed the bloodshed on all other levels in between. The inmates were loose in the asylum and the masters had become the slaves.

At the top of Kane’s computer screen was the countdown for the Spiral’s containment measures. 8:52…8:51…8:50…7:49…

Less than ten minutes to live. A life Kane had been truly honoured to have lived. Being a guardian, a keeper of secrets was the pride of Kane’s life. He would leave this world knowing he had performed his duties admirably, and that when things had gone wrong, he had done what was right—even if his last assignment had ended in disaster, he hoped that his colleagues would see that.

He would see the countdown through. Nothing inside the Spiral could be allowed to live. All must die.

It was for the greater good.

I’m a hero. A hero in the truest sense because almost nobody will ever know of my sacrifice.

God will greet me with open arms.

Kane picked up his phone from its cradle and dialled in the number for his counterpart in Tallahassee. It would be good to say goodbye to an old friend. Nobody should die without having said a few last words.

The phone rang.

And rang.

Odd, Robson always picks up. Calls get routed straight through to him wherever he is.

It was some time before the call was answered. When it was, it was not his old friend Robson speaking but a woman.

“General Robson?”

“No, no, this is Hilary. I’m the logistical head of this facility. Who am I speaking to?”

“General Kane. Where is Robson?”

“I’m sorry to report, General, that General Robson is dead.”

“What? Impossible?”

“I’m afraid not. We have had a serious security breach at our facility. We’ve lost more than half our personnel. I am initiating destruction sequence now and evacuating—if that’s even that option anymore.”

“What the hell is happening over there? What’s going-”

“It’s the faustling. Somehow it escaped. It let all of the other prisoners free. They slaughtered most of us before we even knew what was hap-”

The line went dead.

Kane replaced the handset carefully and stared into space.

5:37 left on the countdown.

Chapter Thirty

The batling watched over its newly-risen army with pride. Many of the creatures it fondly remembered; remembered breathing life into their original ancestors. Those original hordes, raised to purge the earth, had been magnificent. Their descendants were but poor replicas, but they would do. Hatred for humanity was instilled in their hearts and that was all that was needed to ignite the inferno of war. This time there would be no outcome other than humanity’s extinction.

The time of man was at an end.

But there was a matter of some urgency to deal with first. The batling sensed the sudden doom in the hearts of those yet living. They all feared certain death, but not at the hands of claws and teeth; something even more certain, something that was quickly approaching.

As was the case with Samhain, the batling had no doubt that the men of the facility would seek self-destruction. There was a single man who could potentially end the batling’s glorious slaughter before it even got started.

The general.

The batling flew down the corridor of subbasement 10, forgetting about its quarry within the rooms beyond momentarily. The Dennisons could wait until later.

It reached the elevator at the end of the corridor and immediately wedged its claws into the gap between the metal doors. It proceeded to force them open until a gap big enough to pass through appeared.

The elevator was not present in the shaft. The batling swooped upwards into the empty space. It spiralled higher and higher, passing floors that were filled with more bloodthirsty warriors ready to do its bidding. Eventually it came upon the elevator, blocking its progress further.

Like a lead ball spewed from a cannon, the batling wrapped its wings around itself and pierced right through the floor of the elevator. The doors inside were already open, allowing the batling to shoot straight out into the Nucleus and spear the nearest human.

The woman screamed as she was torn apart from the neck of her blouse to the belt around her trousers.

The other humans in the room scattered in terror as the batling swooped into the air, towering above them all. Even the men with guns dove into hiding.

That’s it, worms. Scream, scream so that I may bathe in your fear as I spill your guts to the floor.

But there was no time to waste with simple pleasures. There was only one rancid human the batling was interested in.

The batling swooped in a circle, taking in its surroundings. At the far side of the room was a glass partition. Behind it was…

Geneeeraaal.

The batling dive-bombed a nearby human and then accelerated towards the office at the back of the room.

The general looked up from his desk just in time to see the batling smash through the glass window of his office. He immediately leapt up and opened fire with a bulky silver revolver.

The batling cartwheeled in the air, dodging every bullet until the general’s weapon was empty. Then it swooped down and slashed a furrow across the old man’s forehead. The blood flowed in a thick sheet, coating the general’s face and sending him back down into his chair, panting and wide-eyed.

“Whateverrr you have done, Geneeeraaal, undo it. This facility cannot fall. Your job is to protect it.”

The general wiped blood from his face. “My job is to bury you alive. And that’s just what I am going to do, you…you abomination.”

“Undo it, now!”

“It’s over. You’re going to die in exactly,” the general glanced at his computer. “Two and a half minutes.”

The batling laughed. “It is not over. It is only just beginning. We are many. You are a soldier and yet you seek to run, to take the easy way out. If you were an honourable man you would live and fight in the days ahead.”

The general wiped more blood from his face. His thinning grey hair had now turned crimson. He panted in fear. “W-what do you mean?”

“That this is just one battleground of many. If I fall then others will take my place. This is not humanity’s last stand. Your actions here today are inconsequential, and yet you seek to die from them.”

The uncertainty on the old man’s face was delectable. Putting doubt into men’s hearts was one of the greatest joys of the batling’s kind.

“Put a stop to it, General, and I will allow you to live another day. I will give you the chance to die an honourable, soldier’s death—in battle, not an office cubicle.”

The general shook his head. Blood droplets flew everywhere. “No, I cannot. I made an oath.”

“You made an oath worth ssshit to a God worth nothing. Deus Manus has been but a thorn in the side of the true creator. Soon we will resign it a footnote in the history of a new and glorious world. Enjoy your death, General. It has meant truly nothing. You will not even be remembered.”

The general sat up in his chair, a pained expression on his crimson face. His fingertips reached out in front of him.

• • •

“Sorry to inform everybody,” said Dr Gorman, “but I’m afraid we have just about a minute to live.”

“What?” said Andy. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that a sixty second warning just popped up on my computer screen. The facility is about to start filling up with cement.”

Andy grabbed Sun by her shoulders. He had to talk to her, tell her she loved him. It couldn’t end like this, with her sleeping.

Maybe that’s for the best.

“Nice knowing you all,” West muttered. He placed his assault rifle down on the floor at his feet and sat back in a swivel chair that he had found himself into.

The remaining lab assistants all began to sob, men and women both. The Irishman, Lucas, stood calmly with his hands clasped together in front of him.

“Thirty seconds,” said Gorman.

Andy placed a hand against his wife’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Sun. I should have put my foot down and never come here. I failed you. I wish I could make it up to you in the next life, but after all we’ve seen together, I’m not sure there is one.”

Lucas placed a hand on Andy’s shoulder. It seemed to cause a brief spark of static, like touching a friction-charged balloon. “We all get what we deserve in the end, lad. If Heaven is a place you feel that you both belong, well then that’s where you will most likely be.”

Andy realised there were tears in his eyes. He looked at Lucas and nodded. “Thank you.”

“Ten seconds.

Nine…”

Eight…”

Seven…”

Six…”

Five…”

Four…”

Three…”

…

…

“I…I don’t believe it.”

Andy turned to Dr Gorman at her computer. “What? What is it?”

“The countdown has halted. The emergency protocols have been cancelled.”

Andy spun on the spot and went over to her. “Does that mean the facility has been secured? Are we getting out of here?”

“Impossible,” said West. “I’ve been radioing round for the past thirty minutes and nobody is answering.”

Dr Gorman typed away. “Let me check.” She brought up a new menu and entered several commands. It was only a moment or so before a grid of thumbnails came onscreen displaying the numerous camera feeds of the Spiral. None of them showed anything good.”

“Everybody’s dead,” West muttered as he came over to join them and saw the camera feeds.

Andy blinked slowly as he took in the carnage. Almost every thumbnail gave an image of a blood-soaked room or corridor, littered with mangled torsos and discarded human limbs. Many of the corridors were currently being stalked by abominations of all shapes and sizes. A dozen nightmares were being played out simultaneously. One floor was infested with huge rodent-like creatures gnawing feverishly on the dead, while another floor featured a huge ape-like humanoid that resembled in every way a yeti. It was joined by a hooved beast that stood on hind legs like a man but otherwise resembled an elk—with giant, twisted antlers.

Andy rubbed at his cheeks and tried to make sense of the situation. “So, if we’re still in deep shit, why did Kane stop the countdown?”

“I don’t know. I can’t find him anywhere on the cameras.”

“Perhaps the old fella didn’t have the bottle,” Lucas suggested.

“What do you mean?” asked West.

“Perhaps his time of reckoning was upon him and he decided that he wasn’t ready to give up the ghost yet. Maybe he felt he still had things to do.”

West snorted. “Kane is committed to this facility and keeping it secure. He would not have backed out. If the facility needed destroying then he would have done so. I’ve worked under General Kane for more than three years. I know the man.”

Lucas laughed. “The only person who can truly know a man is the man himself. Quite often you’ll find that the shape of a man’s heart doesn’t match his smile.”

West shook his head and grunted. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Perhaps not to you.”

“Whatever.” West picked up his rifle from the floor. “I’m going back out into the conference room. I didn’t see Sergeant Rimmer on any of those camera feeds. Maybe I’ll be able to get hold of him if I keep trying.”

Gorman nodded. “As you would have it. I will remain here and try to make Mrs Dennison comfortable. I take it you will remain also, Mr Dennison?”

Andy stroked his wife’s clammy forehead and nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

There was an almighty crash from the room beyond.

Lucas sighed. “Then it’s just as well that the fun seems like it’s going to come to us.”

Chapter Thirty-One

“Dude, she’s coming in.”

Rimmer pointed his weapon at the slowly cell door. “Don’t you think I see that?”

The basilisk grinned at them as the cell opened up. Her serpent tongue darted back and forth between her slimy lips.

“Dude, shoot her.”

Rimmer fired off his weapon, the handgun bucking in his hand. Jerry had never seen a handgun up close, but right now he wished he had one of his own. IT looked pretty badass.

The bullets struck the basilisk in her chest, drawing out several wells of dark green blood.

But she kept coming, her anger and malicious intent only intensified. The hatred in her wide, lizard eyes seemed to burn white-hot.

Rimmer fired more rounds. All of them hit home, drawing more blood.

But the basilisk kept on coming, sliding through the gap in the cell and onto the sandy ground inside. Once she slithered upon the sand, the basilisk began to move awkwardly, not engineered to move along a shifting surface like a desert. Perhaps she was not as close to a snake as Jerry had thought. The slime covering her flesh seemed to cling to the sand and slow her down.

Rimmer emptied his clip, caused more wounds, but the bullets may have well have been measly flies for all the concern they were causing their target.

“I’m out,” said Rimmer, reaching for a clip on his belt. “Shit, I’m really out. I don’t have any more ammo.”

Jerry shifted his weight from left to right, almost bouncing as he anxiously watched the basilisk get closer.

“Do something,” Rimmer shouted. “Don’t just stand there.” While shouting this, Rimmer leapt across the sands like a gladiator, his gun raised above his head like a cudgel. Just as he landed, the basilisk swiped at him with one of her razor-like talons, sending him sprawling to the ground and bleeding.

Jerry had to do something.

So he did.

The only thing he could think of.

He bent at the knees, scooped up two handfuls of sand, and then unleashed it into the air. The mini-sandstorm flew in the basilisk’s direction, causing her to swipe and parry with her slithery arms.

The sand coated the basilisk’s face, filled her wide, serpent-like eyes. She screeched, swiping at the air blindly.

Jerry leapt down beside Rimmer and felt the sodden blood-stained sand beneath his splayed fingers. “Dude, gross! You’re all bleeding and shit.”

Rimmer grunted, clutched at his arm tightly, but managed to get to his feet. “It’s just a scratch. I’m fine. Let’s get the hell out of here while we can.”

“No need to tell me,” said Jerry.

They sprinted across the sand towards the open cell door but, before they made it out, Jerry stopped, turned around, and looked at the basilisk from behind.

“Come on” said Rimmer. “What are you doing? We have to go.”

Jerry marched up behind the distressed basilisk, a grim look upon his face.

Then he kicked her up the arse as hard as he could, before sprinting out of the cell and joining Rimmer.

“Feel better now?” Rimmer asked him, a jovial ring to his voice.

“Not really. I hurt my foot. That ugly, Daryl Hannah-wannabee, bi-atch must work on her glutes.”

“Shit!” Rimmer slid to a stop.

Jerry did the same, almost slipping in a puddle of blood.

Up ahead were the two giant spiders.

“I really hate those things,” said Jerry. “Even the one with six legs left.”

The spiders spotted the two men and immediately hissed. Then they came.

Instead of running backwards and fleeing, Rimmer sprinted forwards and engaged.

Jerry reached out a hand to stop the man but it was too late.

Rimmer leapt in the air and then hit the ground on his ass, sliding. All of the blood on the floor allowed him to skid along for several metres, grabbing the assault rifle of one of his fallen comrades as he passed by.

As soon as Rimmer came to a stop, he brought the rifle around in front of him and opened fire.

Letting off short, three-round bursts, Rimmer aimed at, and managed to hit, the spider’s bulbous bodies from a low angle. The creatures screeched and hissed as the bullets penetrated their soft underbellies.

The spider with the two missing legs staggered sideways and then fell onto its back, remaining legs folded in on itself.

The remaining spider came forwards, but its movements were awkward and confused. Rimmer climbed to his feet, aimed carefully, and fired the remaining rounds into the spider’s face. The bullets ripped apart the beast’s fangs and one of its six eyeballs.

It fell to the ground, dead.

Jerry’s jaw dropped open.

Rimmer nodded at him. “You’re not the only one who plays Call of Duty.”

There was a cacophony of inhuman screeches and growls from the corridor behind them. Jerry turned around to see shadows approaching. There were more monsters coming.

Rimmer picked up his fallen comrade’s extra ammo clips and then motioned to Jerry with his free hand. “Come on, kid. Time to go.”

Jerry went to start running but stopped. He pointed up ahead. Rimmer turned around.

In the final cell before the elevator was a small creature. It glanced out of the gap nervously, looking left and right.

“It’s one of those imp things,” said Jerry.

Rimmer sighed. “It’s fine. They’re not dangerous.” He stomped towards the imp in the cell’s doorway and it immediately scarpered back inside, squeaking fearfully. “See? Now move it.”

Jerry and Rimmer sprinted down the final part of the corridor until they came upon the elevator. The doors were closed so Rimmer shoved his combat knife into the slim gap between them and twisted.

The doors slid aside, exposing an empty shaft.

Rimmer peered upwards inside. “We can climb the cables to the top. Just wrap it around your leg and shimmy upwards.”

“Upwards? Hell, no. I’m going downwards. We’ve got to go and help the others.”

Rimmer stared at Jerry like he was an idiot. “What is with your goddamn heroic complex? Just worry about your own ass. This facility is probably rigged to bury us any minute. We need to get to the surface, not delve down deeper into the belly of the beast.”

Jerry shrugged his shoulders. “You can do what you want, dude. I appreciate you helping me up until now, but I’m going to help the others. I couldn’t live with myself if I just left them to die. I’ve got enough regret to last me a lifetime; I’m not about to add to it.”

“Your lifetime can be measured in minutes if you go down there.”

“I’d rather go out a hero than a whimpering fart.”

Rimmer shook his head, listened to the monstrous noises approaching them from the rear, and then swallowed a lump in his throat. “You’re gonna get me fucking killed, kid. Come on. If we’re going to do this let’s be quick about it.”

Jerry grinned. “I knew you had it in you. Anyway, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Rimmer stared down the elevator shaft into the shadows hundreds of feet below. He grabbed the cable and entangled it around his outstretched leg. “We could be forced to watch while something unspeakably evil devours our intestines. Now come on.”

Jerry leapt down the elevator shaft along with Rimmer. The shadows were quick to envelop them.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“We got a problem,” said West, stepping back through into the labs.

“What is it?” said Andy. “What is that banging?”

“That banging is the entire prison roster of subbasement 10 trying to get through the door into the conference room. The worst part is—they seem like they’re succeeding.”

“Impossible,” said Dr Gorman. “That door is several inches of thick steel.”

West nodded. “They don’t seem to care. We need to deal with this.”

“Right-o,” said Lucas. “Your will, my hands, and all that. Just tell me what you need.”

“I need numbers.”

Andy looked down at Sun and sighed. “I’ll be right back honey.”

Gorman told her assistants to go and help out too, but she herself remained. Andy didn’t like leaving Sun with the doctor—didn’t quite trust her—but he had little choice.

He headed out into the conference room and saw right away that the heavy steel door on the other side was starting to bulge in the middle.

West spoke with the two other surviving security guards and the three of them checked their weapons.

The steel door shook on its hinges as something ungodly smashed against the other side. With each blow the steel bulged an inch more in the middle.

“What’s behind there?” Andy asked. “What the hell could be so strong?”

“It’s the sucker from cell 6.”

Andy frowned. “The what now?”

“Remember the massacre at Blessed Crucifixion?”

“That hospital in Illinois? Two maniacs went in and axed a bunch of people?”

The door continued to buckle inwards.

West nodded. “That was what Deus Manus spun to the press. The real reason that a few dozen people were torn apart at that hospital was because of the thing behind that door. I call ’em suckers, but I guess you could call them vampires.”

“Great, you mean like Dracula?”

“Or that fella from Sesame Street?” said Lucas. “I love that guy. Von, two, three…”

“No, I mean like a savage, remorseless beast of Hell that won’t stop until it tears apart everything in sight.”

“Is it me,” said Lucas, “or does it feel like the jailers have suddenly become the ones who are caged. Poetic in a way, no?”

Andy glared at Lucas. “Why are you even here? Are you a part of all this? Seems like you have a funny way of showing up right before a whole bunch of people get killed.”

“What are you talking about?” said West. The man had tilted his rifle ever so slightly in Lucas’s direction.

“I mean that before Dr Chandelling was possessed he showed me a whole bunch of historical photographs featuring Lucas. Photographs taken of Hitler, among other delightful people.”

Lucas put his hands up. “Hey, I’m not the bad guy here. I’m not looking to rip anybody apart. Seems like you have enough of that already.”

“Then why are you here?”

West chose to full-on point his rifle at Lucas now. “Answer the man, Lucky Charms.”

Lucas smirked. “Sunshine, you fire that weapon at me and all it’s going to do is spoil my flawless complexion and make me mad. And believe me, you wouldn’t like me without a flawless complexion.”

“Enough games,” said Andy. “Talk. What the hell were you doing alongside Hitler and African warlords?”

“Trying to talk some sense into them.”

Andy hadn’t expected that answer. “What?”

Lucas shrugged. “I knew what that knicker-wearing mommy’s boy, Adolf, was planning—saw it in his heart. I tried to change his mind, but it was no use. Same with those mad bastards in Africa.”

“I don’t buy it. If you were there to stop those men from committing atrocities, you did a really bad job.”

Lucas nodded. “Aye, can’t argue there, but you want to see some of the men I did talk around. For every Hitler that failed to heed my words, there were a dozen more like him that did.”

“Bullshit,” said West. “Are we supposed to believe that you’re some sort of guardian angel, fluttering around the earth trying to prevent evil?”

Lucas laughed. “You couldn’t be more wrong, or more closer to the truth.”

“Riddles,” said Andy. “Just tell us what you are doing he-”

The steel door burst open. An abomination stood staring at them, hunger in its eyes.

West shouted. “Fire!”

The three security guards let loose with their assault rifles, filling the air with smoke and an ear-piercing racket.

The sucker leapt into the air, grabbing onto hanging light fixtures twenty feet above and swinging over their heads.

Andy took cover. Lucas squatted down beside him. “Think you can talk this thing round? Andy said.

“Don’t think he’s really the reasoning type.”

The sucker screeched at them from the rafters, drool dripping down from between its dagger-like teeth.

“That thing has a mouth like Jaws,” Andy cried.

“Don’t let it bite you,” West warned, trying to draw a bead on the target.

“Why not?”

“You don’t want to know.”

The sucker moved with the speed of a scurrying insect. It swung above their heads and came down at the back of the room. It grabbed one of Gorman’s lab assistants and tore into her throat, spilling blood and tearing away a hunk of meat. West’s men fired, but resulted only in hitting the shuddering torso of the dying woman.

“Stop firing,” West shouted.

The sucker raised the woman above its head and tossed her lifeless body across the room, bowling over West and his men like skittles.

The sucker leapt back up to the ceiling. West scrambled to his feet and let off another round of gunfire.

“I can’t hit the goddamn thing,” he shouted. “It’s too fast.”

The sucker dropped back down and took the life of another lab assistant, then slashed open the throat of one of the remaining security guards.

“It’s picking us off one by one,” said West. “We have to get out of here.”

Andy leapt up from his hiding place. “Come on, back into the lab.”

The remaining survivors made a dash for the entrance but one of the dead lab assistants leapt in front of them and blocked their path. It was the woman that the sucker had just killed. Now she was standing before them snarling.

Her lips split open, her jaw dislocated as dozens of razor-sharp teeth erupted from her gums in a painful transformation.

Andy back away. “What the hell?”

“I told you not to get bitten,” said West. “That’s why.”

Behind them, the other dead lab assistant leapt up and went through the same grizzly changes. While teeth pierced through the dead man’s lips, he lunged forward and seized West’s remaining team member and snapped the man’s neck like a twig.

“Run,” said West. “Right fucking now.”

Andy argued. “We have to get to the lab. My wife is there.”

“Screw the lab. It’s blocked off. Here, this way.”

Andy hesitated, glancing at the door to the labs but realising that it was blocked by certain death. The sucker had dropped down from the rafters and was waiting for their approach.

“There’s no choice,” said Lucas. “If you want to live, then we need to get someplace safe in the next two seconds.”

“I’ll be back for you, Sun. I promise.” Andy raced after West and the others.

The sucker saw their planned route and leapt in front of them, grabbing the last remaining lab assistant and impaling her with one of its twisted claws. A gout of blood erupted from the young man’s mouth and the glint of life quickly left his eyes.

Andy and Lucas carried on sprinting.

West held open a door up ahead. “Come on, through here.”

Andy leapt through the door and tumbled to the ground, his legs giving out. Lucas followed. West slammed the door closed behind them. Fortunately it was the same thick steel as the door to the cellblock. Unfortunately that door had not been strong enough to withstand a breach.

They had some time; but not much.

“Where are we?” Andy asked, lying on the ground and gasping for breath.

“You’re in the library,” said Nessie, who quickly appeared from a nearby alcove. “Does somebody want to tell me what the fuckballs is going on?”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Everybody left alive in the library got to work making a barricade. They slid aside the heavy bookcases and positioned them in front of the door, bracing it as much as possible. They then stuffed the bookcases with the heaviest books they could find.

They all stood back to survey their work.

“It’s not going to hold forever,” said West.

Andy sighed. “I know, but at least they aren’t trying to get through right now. We have some breathing room.”

West chewed his lip. “Why do you think they’re not trying to get in? That sucker knows we’re in here.”

“He’s drawing it out,” said Lucas. “We just lost half our number and we’re not going anywhere. You’re his prisoners now.”

Andy snorted. “Are you saying that it’s enjoying the situation? Getting some sort of justice?”

“That thing out there is evil and sadistic. You really think it wouldn’t take the opportunity to enjoy some bitter irony if given the chance? There’s no rush, it can come kill you all whenever it chooses.”

“Why is he with us?” Nessie said, motioning towards Lucas. “Isn’t he one of the escaped prisoners?”

“I like to think of myself as a guest, luv. I’m just here to enjoy the hospitality.”

“You said that you have tried to prevent evil happening in the past,” said Andy. “So what is your purpose here? Were you here to prevent the breakout?”

Lucas shook his head. “I can’t prevent the actions of the defiler. That flappy little blighter has its orders and there’s nothing I could say to change its mind.”

Andy raised an eyebrow. “You mean the batling? And you refer to the defiler? Are you talking about Bub?”

“Aye, that was what you people named him. The truth is he has no name. He has existed as a force of destruction since the days this planet took its first breaths.”

“Why is he here?”

“To make himself at home. For every thing of beauty that the Lord created, he made an abomination to destroy it. His sole intention is to wipe out God’s creations and recreate the planet anew as his own domain.”

“Are you saying that Bub created all of the monsters we have here?” Nessie had a look of wonder on her exuberant face.

“Not all of them, but I can assure you that the bloodsucking monster in the next room had nothing to do with God. He would not create such a vile thing.”

“Who are you?” Andy demanded, tired of asking the same question. “How do you know all this?”

“Let’s just say that me and the big man upstairs used to be drinking buddies. Back before we had a falling out. Tell you the truth, I’ve been seeking his forgiveness ever since, despite my earlier misguidedness.”

Nessie huffed. “You know God?”

“No, lass. No one knows God. But I was lucky enough to be in his presence for a millennia or two.”

“So what changed?” asked Andy, deciding to humour the man. “Why did you fall out with God?”

“Because I resented his most recent creation. I refused to bow down before a lesser creature. My vanity saw me cast down from Heaven.”

Andy’s eyes went wide. “Wait a minute. Are you saying… You’re talking about the creation of man? Are you saying… Are you saying that you are the devil?”

Lucas cast his glance downwards, a sadness creeping across his face. “Tis but a name that many a frightened man gave me, but for a long time it was a name I earned proudly and with gusto. I slaughtered your kin and corrupted your purest hearts.”

“Bub made similar claims. Claims that held no proof at all.”

“I make no claims. You ask questions and I give answer.”

“But you don’t deny that you are the devil?”

“My name is Lucifer. The devil is a name I have long sought to shed.”

Nessie laughed. “Are you saying that you’re reformed?”

Lucas grinned back, almost confrontationally. “I’m saying that my eyes were open to what God created. I saw the beauty and compassion that I once thought absent. I realised my misjudgement of man. I love you now as God meant me to from the beginning.”

“So you’re here to save us?” West said. “Well, you need to get a move on.”

Lucas looked at the man pityingly. “If I could pluck your ass from the fire, then I would. But it’s not within my abilities. I cannot directly interfere with the actions of men.”

“Some devil you are,” said West. “Aren’t you supposed to be almighty—God’s adversary?”

“I’m afraid you’re putting too much faith in your own press there, fella. I have no power. Without God’s love and a connection to Heaven, I have little more influence over the world than you do. I can be anywhere I choose, can read a man’s heart, but those are just parlour tricks—remnants of my nature as an angel. But I cannot breathe fire or summon legions from Hell. Those are just the fantasies of men and their fiction.”

“So why the hell are you here, then?” Andy asked.

“Because if mankind is going to fall, I want to stand shoulder to shoulder and go down with it. I have lived on this earth since the days when you crawled out of your own shit. If somebody is trying to destroy it all, then I’m as much involved as any man. While I cannot act directly. I will do what I can to help you. Bub and his little bastard offspring are the most deadly things on this earth, but they bleed like anything else. I’ve seen enough of mankind to know that it does not give in to extinction. I believe you will fight back. You in particular, Andy, and your wife, Sun. You have a destiny to stop Bub.”

“I don’t believe in nonsense like ‘destiny’, but if it predicts we’re going to fight back, then it’s got that much right.”

“Damn right we will,” said West. “I ain’t going down without a fight.”

“So what do we do now?” Andy asked. “We’re trapped in here and those suckers are outside ready to come in at any moment.”

“You could always read a book,” said Lucas, looking around at all of the bookcases. “I hear Twilight is quite the read.”

Andy’s face screwed up in disgust. “I thought you said you’d given up being evil?”

“That reminds me,” said Nessie. “I found something in a book earlier. Something I’ve been meaning to show you.”

“What is it?”

“A clue to what Bub is planning. An indication of what we’re in for.”

“Let me guess,” said Andy. “It’s nothing good?”

“No,” replied Nessie. “It’s very bad.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

“The shaft ends here,” said Rimmer. “We must be at subbasement 10.”

Jerry swung his leg out onto the concrete lip that sat below the floor’s elevator hatch. Rimmer did so too and they both balanced precariously next to one another.

“Can you get it open from this side?”

Rimmer nodded. “Shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I’m guessing the problems will start once we get into the corridor.”

Rimmer sighed. “I say we’re both going to be dead in about three minutes.”

Jerry nodded. “So about as long as it takes to have sex then?”

“Have you even had sex?”

“Yeah, plenty of times. Just never with a person.”

Rimmer shook his head. “Perhaps it’s best that you’re about to be put out of your misery.”

Jerry nodded. “Euthanasia by monster. That’s how I always dreamed of going.”

“You ready?”

Jerry nodded.

Rimmer slammed his knife between the elevator doors and jarred them open. Both men gripped a door each and together they slid them aside.

They were surprised by what they found.

The corridor was empty.

“Where is everyone?”

Rimmer tried his radio briefly, but it was a pointless exercise. Every channel came back with static. Perhaps Kane had put a block on all of the radios.

Jerry called out, making Rimmer wince.

“Will, you keep your goddamn voice down. Just because there’s no one here, doesn’t mean we want to advertise our presence.”

Rimmer stepped out into the corridor, his boots padding softly on the concrete. Unlike the other corridors, this one was not stained with blood. All of the high-security glass cells were wide open, however, and none of their former inhabitants were present. The vilest creatures in the Spiral were all loose.

Rimmer narrowed his eyes. But where the hell are they?

He had a bad feeling. It was like he was walking into a trap. It was the same way he had felt moving silently across the Iraqi desert, leading his entire squad into the deadly ambush which had ultimately led to him joining Deus Manus.

Rimmer placed a hand up over his shoulder and stopped. Jerry understood the signal and stopped too.

“What is it?” Jerry whispered.

“I don’t like this? The monsters on the upper basements are like animals. They just come running soon as they see you. The freak shows on this floor are smart. They think. They plan.”

“So what would be their plan?”

Slowly, Rimmer raised his head and stared up at the ceiling. “I think their plan would be to get the jump on us.”

On the ceiling, clinging to an air duct was an abomination right out of a nightmare. Rimmer had no need for nightmares, though. He lived in a world where reality and dreams were one and the same.

“Clever girl,” Jerry muttered.

The creature above them was Grendaline Historicum. More than just a beast written about in Beowulf, it was a creature of unrivalled strength and ferocity.

“Move!” Rimmer shoved Jerry aside and performed a combat roll.

The grendal hit the concrete with its ham-sized fists, sending out cracks like an earthquake.

Rimmer attempted to bring his rifle up, but the beast swatted it out of his hands so hard that it almost broke his wrists.

Jerry ran at the creature, smashing his fists against its boulder-like back. The grendal spun around, snarling. It swiped at Jerry with what would surely have been a fatal blow if it had connected, but he managed to duck just in time and leap away.

Rimmer scrambled for his fallen rifle, but the grendal stomped forwards and grabbed him by his belt. It yanked him up by his waist, three feet off the ground, and stared into his face.

Rimmer winced as the creature’s foul breath washed over him. He was starting to pass out.

The grendal opened its jaws, ready to take off Rimmer’s head with a single bite from its vile, stained teeth.

Rimmer fiddled with his belt. Found the clasp.

Just as the grendal snapped its jaws shut, Rimmer pressed the release on the belt and slid out of it. He hit the floor and crumpled. The grendal bit down on thin air.

Jerry appeared in Rimmer’s peripheral vision and was grinning ear to ear.

“Say hello to my little friend!” The kid had picked up the fallen assault rifle and was holding it at his hip like Al Pacino. He pulled the trigger and let off a burst of rounds.

Ratatatatt.

The rifle kicked upwards, striking Jerry in the face and knocking him on his ass.

Rimmer shook his head and sighed. If anything, the errant gunfire had at least distracted the grendal. Rimmer leapt to his feet, pulled his backup combat knife from the scabbard around his thigh, and lunged at the beast in front of him. He managed to leap three feet into the air and brought his arm around like a windmill.

The grendal caught Rimmer in its thick tree-trunk arms and immediately began squeezing the life out of him.

Rimmer managed to use the last of his momentum to bring the knife around, but he couldn’t land a lethal strike. Instead he buried the blade up to its hilt in the beast’s shoulder where the bulbous arm met the hairy collarbone.

The grendal roared. Blood jetted out from its wound.

Fighting against the vice-like grip around his waist, Rimmer yanked and pulled at the knife, working it around like a gear stick and doing as much damage as possible. The beast continued to roar but the high-tones of agony had entered its mighty voice. The wound on its arm widened, spilt more blood.

Rimmer managed to yank the knife free. He slammed it down again in the exact same place as before, widening the existing wound into a bloody canyon.

He pulled the knife free again.

Stabbed again.

The grendal wailed; released its grip on Rimmer.

Rimmer left the combat knife sticking out of the creature’s collarbone and instead used his hands to yank at the creature’s arm. Jerry recovered and ran over to help. Together the two of them pulled and tugged at the grendal’s arm as though they were dancing around a maypole on a sunny English day.

The arm tore loose.

Blood jetted into the air.

The grendal whimpered; immediately backed away.

It staggered down the corridor, roaring and whimpering in equal measures. It passed by several cells before entering the one that was his.

His home.

Rimmer picked up the assault rifle and ran after the beast. But when he got to the cell he saw that it was hunched over and dying. The grendal was lying inside an artificial rock cave, surrounded by a growing pool of its own blood.

Rimmer raised his rifle, surprised that he even possessed the capacity for mercy.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Nessie led Andy, West, and Lucas over to the desk she had been working at. Upon it sat an open book, dusty around the edges but wiped clean across its open face.

“Jerry and I were researching Bub’s origin earlier today, trying to find how far back in history he went.” Nessie cleared her throat and seemed to sadden. “Does anybody know what happened to Jerry?”

The three men shook their heads.

“Sorry,” said Andy. “Kane had Rimmer take him to the upper levels after he opened up one of the cells and let the werewolf out.”

Nessie straightened in her chair. “He did what?”

“He let the werewolf loose.”

West sighed. “Then the kid was most likely dead before any of this even started. I’m sorry Mr Dennison.”

Andy said nothing. The time for mourning would likely never come.

Nessie stared into space for a few moments, but then cleared her throat once again and went back to the book in front of her.

Andy took a seat beside her and leaned over the book to see. “So what are we looking at?”

“This book covers the Aurignacian period—approximately 40,000 years ago.”

“Yikes,” said Andy.

Nessie nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty far back to say the least. The earliest cave paintings ever discovered were from that time period. It is those paintings, found inside a cave in Cantabria, Spain, that this was discovered.”

Nessie pointed to a picture on the page. It was pretty clear what it was supposed to depict.

Andy narrowed his eyes. “The batlings?”

“Yes.”

The image portrayed a dozen flying red demons, leading an army into battle. The army was made up of a vast assortment of monsters—monsters just like the ones kept within the Spiral. Facing down the batlings was an opposing army: one made up of men and…

“Are those angels?” said Andy.

“Aye,” said Lucas, standing behind their chairs and leaning over the top of them at the picture. “Angels joined with man to stop the scourge before it extinguished every last spark of God’s creation.”

Andy craned his neck. “How do you know about this?”

“Because I was there, lad. I led God’s armies alongside Michael and Gabriel. The war waged for centuries, until there was barely a soul remaining on either side. Those left amongst the angels retired to Heaven while mankind inherited the earth, left behind as its protectors. The surviving humans made an oath to contain the defiler and his wicked creations for evermore.”

“Deus Manus?” Andy asked.

“Aye. Deus Manus took what was left of the scourging army and vowed to keep them from ever being able to do harm again. The defiler was cast into a tomb never to be released.”

“What happened?”

“Civilisation happened. Mankind pillaged and manipulated the earth to suit their every whim, digging and cutting, reshaping things to their liking. Eventually the defiler’s tomb was unearthed and he once again began walking the earth—biding his time until he could regain the strength he once wielded. Until recently he had been unable to rediscover his armies. Then came along the Internet; and some fool who gave Bub access to it at Samhain.

“Dr Belgium?”

“Aye. Bub was able to research enough from online conspiracy theorists, secure military websites, and Google Earth images to make an educated guess at where his former legions now lay.”

“That’s why the batling is here,” said Nessie. “It wanted to get captured all along; so it could spring a prison break and raise an army.”

Andy tapped at the book on the table. “And if these pictures are anything to go by, this place is just the tip of the iceberg.”

“What do we do?”

“What can we do?” said West. “If we even last the hour I’d call that a success.”

Andy rubbed at his forehead and tried to think, but all that his mind could focus on was Sun. If West was right, that they would be dead soon, then he wanted to be with his wife.

But getting across that hall to the next room may as well be a swim across shark-infested waters.

Andy looked over at Lucas. “Okay, so if you’re here in some sort of ‘advisory capacity’…start advising.”

Lucas sighed. “Well, the way I see it, you got two options. One, you wait here until those things bash through and get ya. Or, two, you man up and go out there and get them rotten sods first.”

West snorted. “We just go out there and get them? Simple as that? I couldn’t even land a single shot on that sucker when it was just him alone. Now there’s a handful out there, not to mention the other prisoners that are wandering around God knows where.”

Lucas huffed. “Didn’t say your options were any good now, did I?”

“I have a third option,” said Nessie.

“What?” asked Andy.

Nessie stood up and went over to the back of the room. She pointed up at the top of one of the large wooden bookcases. “Up there. The old ventilation shaft. It used to go all the way to the top. They may have blocked it up, but they never filled it in.”

West snorted again. “So we’re supposed to, what, just float six-hundred feet to the surface?”

Nessie rolled her eyes. “Not if we can reach the ladder up there.”

Andy went over to join Nessie at the bookshelf. He peered upwards into a shaft rising into the ceiling. About twenty feet up was a rusty old ladder attached to the wall by brackets.

“They put the ladder there for maintenance,” Nessie said. “There are grates every hundred feet or so, but I think they’re pretty easy to remove.”

Andy folded his arms. “And it goes all the way to the top?”

“It used to. I think they may have filled the top in, but it will get us most of the way there.”

“I like it,” said Andy. “Certainly more than options 1 and 2.”

“Okay,” said West. “I’m in. Let’s get to it.”

Andy turned around, chest puffed out. “No. I need to get my wife first. We’re not going to leave her and Dr Gorman down here to die.”

“Do what you want,” said West. “But you don’t give the rest of us orders.”

Nessie huffed. “Really, Tyler? Is that the type of man you want to be? Because I know better. I know most of your paycheque goes to your elderly parents in Maine. Do you really think they would be proud of a son that left people to die?”

West grunted. “Not cool, Nessie. Not cool at all.” He folded his arms. “Fine, but I’m not going out there without a plan.”

“So let’s make one,” said Lucas. “Sooner we get this done with, the sooner I can go find a boozer.”

“So what do we defend ourselves with?” West picked up a book on the shelf and let it fall to the floor. “A bunch of dusty old books?”

“Maybe,” said Andy. “We’re in a prison, so why not do as prisoners do?” He went over to one of the bookshelves and picked up a slim volume of what looked to be geographical maps. He placed it down his waistband and tucked in his shirt over the top. “Voila! Armour.”

“I think I’m going to be sick,” said Nessie. “Some of these books are thousands of years old and you want to shove them down your pants?”

“Better than dying,” said West, following Andy’s lead and shoving several slimmer volumes beneath his clothing.”

“As for weaponry,” Andy said, walking over to one of the wooden study desks. “We have West’s assault rifle, but let’s get a bit more traditional.” He kicked the leg of the table hard, again and again. Eventually the leg snapped free of its bolts and fell to the floor. The table rocked on its three remaining legs but remained standing. Andy picked up the broken shaft of wood and held it out in front of him. The broken end was sharp and splintered. “Those things come near us and we can Van Helsing their asses.”

“It won’t kill them,” said West. “That’s just in the movies.”

“Will it hurt them?”

West nodded.

“Then it will do. Let’s move the barricade out of the way.”

“Okay, then,” said Lucas. “Let’s get this shindig a-rockin’.”

Andy grinned. “Time to go to war.”

• • •

Dr Gorman stared at the video feeds on her computer. The facility was lost. The employees at the Nucleus had been slaughtered by the rampaging batling as they desperately sought to get the lift working. All other floors were littered with bodies, with no one left alive.

The only thing of any interest was Rimmer and the English boy stalking down the corridor of subbasement 10 like some sort of hopeless Delta team. She had watched them dispatch the grendal, though, which had impressed her. Right now they were heading towards the conference room. What they were planning to achieve, she did not know. Whatever it was, they wouldn’t succeed. They were being stalked from behind by death itself.

The final images that caught Thandi’s attention were from the library. Mr Dennison was still alive, along with a few others. It was concerning to watch their attention turn to the old ventilation shaft inside the library. Could they be planning to use it to escape? It would do no good. It was blocked at the top.

But if they do manage to get out somehow, they’ll end up letting every creature in the facility out into the world. Kane’s cowardice has risked everything.

Dennison and the others seemed as though they were preparing to fight. They were arming themselves with sticks like inbred tribesmen.

That fool’s going to try and get his wife.

He’ll be dead before he gets anywhere near her.

But what if he somehow manages to make it back here?

There was no way Thandi was about to let the man responsible for what was going on have a tearful reunion with his wife. She would not allow it.

Thandi looked down at Mrs Dennison, who was still sleeping soundly. “You meddling bitch! You and your goddamn husband have ruined everything.”

Gorman headed across her lab and grabbed hold of a portable gas cylinder full of anaesthesia. She untangled the attached inhaler mask and placed it over Sun’s mouth and nose.

Thandi opened the nozzle all the way to full.

“Your fool of a husband can try and rescue you all he wants, but by the time he gets here you’ll already be dead.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

Jerry kept close to Rimmer. He rubbed at the bridge of the nose and wondered if it was broken. The recoil on the rifle had been a bitch and firing the weapon had not been as much fun as he’d expected. The bleeding had only just stopped.

Rimmer crept forwards, his rifle scanning left and right. The bearded security guard was a valiant attempt at being a real-life Rambo, but Rambo never had to face off against monsters. Jerry had a feeling that his earlier decisions had led them down a bad path. Playing the hero wasn’t as easy as he had thought.

As they passed by each cell, Rimmer took a look inside. Each one they checked was empty. Shortly up ahead was the door to the conference room. The door was mangled and bent, but it was partly closed and still covered the entrance.

“You think we’ll find them?” Jerry asked. “It looks like there was a fight down here.”

“I think we’ll find them. Whether or not they’re alive and kicking, I don’t know. Just be prepared not to find what you were hoping for.”

Jerry swallowed. “Okay, I’m prepared. If there’s nobody left inside, we get our be-hinds out of here.”

“Like I suggested we do an hour ago.”

“Yeah, like you suggested we do an hour ago.”

Rimmer sighed and moved on to the last cell: the one that had originally housed the Irishman. Like all of the other creatures, Lucas had escaped.

Jerry peered around the empty cell. “Where you think they all went?”

“My thinking is that they must have gone after the people in the conference room. You still sure you want to open that door?”

Jerry looked at the mangled, twisted slab of steel and wondered what carnage he would find behind it. There was still the option to just turn tail and run. Maybe that was best.

“You will find nothing but the bleeding corpses of your fellow slugs,” said a rasping voice from behind them.

Rimmer span around, his rifle already raised and pointed.

The batling hovered above them, blood and flesh dripping from its talons.

“You’re going down,” said Jerry, raising a fist and shaking it.

Rimmer grabbed Jerry and pulled him back. “Easy there, kid.”

“What do you want?” Jerry demanded of the batling. “Why are you doing this? You have no right.”

The batling snarled. “You speak of right? What right does humanity have to cage our glorious creations? What right do you have to determine yourselves as the only species of worth?”

“We don’t.”

“You do. You cage and eat any animal you please. But today your reign at the top of the food chain ends. You have been living on borrowed time since the very days your time began. Finally, the anomaly that is mankind is to be corrected.”

The batling swooped down and slashed at Rimmer. Rimmer sidestepped and brought his rifle around. He was unable to let a shot off as Jerry found himself stumbling into his path.

“Get out of my way, kid!”

Jerry dived aside.

Rimmer aimed and fired.

The batling leapt up to the ceiling and evaded the gunfire. Rimmer aimed again, but succeeded only in firing into the ceiling.

The batling swooped down like a missile and struck Rimmer in the chest. He went flying back against the wall, instantly winded.

The batling turned its attention to Jerry. Its eyes seemed to swirl like shifting black shadows. The stink of blood and death was upon it.

Jerry edged back against the wall. “Come on, dude. You don’t want to do this. I’m on your side. In fact I got in a shit load of trouble for trying to release one of the prisoners earlier.”

The batling snarled. “The werewolf. He was not one of mine; just another of God’s pathetic creations.”

“Whatever, man. I didn’t know that. All I’m saying is that I agree that it’s not right to lock animals up.”

“Then you may have more sense than most of your kind, but you are still an abomination that must be destroyed.”

The batling hissed and then dove towards Jerry.

There was the clattering of gunfire and the batling fell out of the air. Jerry turned to his left to see that Rimmer had fired his rifle from on the floor.

Rimmer climbed to his feet gingerly. “Come on…” he said, clutching his ribs. “Let’s get out of here.”

Jerry grabbed a hold of Rimmer and helped the large man get moving. They pushed aside the door to the conference room, which was hanging loosely on its hinges.

Jerry had hoped to find the Dennison’s and Nessie, but what he found was something else.

“Fuck it,” said Rimmer. “We’re screwed.”

Jerry scanned the room; saw four snarling creatures with mouths full of daggers staring right back at him. He sighed. “Out of the puddle and into the pond.”

“Take cover,” said Rimmer, letting off a round as he ducked behind an overturned desk.

Jerry dove down behind an executive leather chair, then realised it would make for very poor cover. As he straightened up and attempted to make for something better, he saw one of the suckers—dressed in a bloodstained lab coat—racing towards him.

Rimmer let off another round of gunfire, hitting the approaching vampire and causing it to change course and leap back behind the large desk in the centre of the room.

“Thanks,” Jerry shouted over to Rimmer.

“You’re welcome.”

The batling burst into the room from the corridor behind them. It rose into the air and let out an almighty bellow. “Kill them. Tear their flesh apart.”

The suckers hissed, almost joyfully. Then all four of them approached like a pack of lions.

Rimmer leapt up out of cover and fired, but the batling swooped down and knocked the rifle from his hands. Then it barrel rolled in the air and prepared to dive again.

The pack of vampires headed straight for Jerry, screeching at him with their talons extended like eagle looking to pluck away his life.

Just as the nearest sucker prepared to pounce, its head exploded like a pumpkin dropped off a roof. The blood splatted Jerry and the shock stopped his breath cold in his lungs.

The remaining three suckers spun around and hissed as a new group of people entered from the back of the conference room. Mr Dennison was standing there, along with Nessie and a security guard with a smoking assault rifle.

“Looks like we arrived just in time,” said Andy. “Need some help?”

Jerry pumped his fist in the air. “Hell yes.”

Rimmer scooted down and recovered his rifle. “Didn’t think anyone was still alive down here.”

“We’re not dead yet,” said West.

The batling swooped into the air and began laughing. “No, but you soon will be.”

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Rimmer raised his rifle and jammed in his last clip of ammo. “West,” he shouted. “Get everyone out of here.”

West nodded. “Sun Dennison and Dr Gorman are in the labs. Regroup with us there.”

“Roger that.”

West hustled everybody together and got them moving as one. He followed after them but stopped to let off a burst from his rifle as one of the suckers got a little too close. The thing’s head exploded and the body fell to the floor.

Rimmer lined up his own sights and took out a woman that had once worked in Dr Gorman’s lab. She took two in the chest and one in the forehead. It was enough to take her out permanently.

He never saw the sucker coming from behind him.

Rimmer fell forwards and crashed into a computer monitor as something barrelled into the back of him. He managed to hold onto his weapon, but could not turn himself around as a weight bore down on his back.

Rimmer looked left and saw West firing up at the batling as the rest of the group scurried towards the back of the room.

West saw that Rimmer was in trouble and went to bring his rifle around.

“No,” Rimmer shouted. “Just get everybody out of here now.”

West fired off a couple of rounds, but then nodded his head slowly, keeping eye contact with Rimmer for a few seconds before breaking off and moving after the rest of the group.

Rimmer sighed as he saw everyone escape into the labs. The weight on his back became a burning sensation as something penetrated his rear webbing. He cried out and managed to tug himself free and to the side.

He spun around and raised his weapon, fired. He emptied his clip into one of the suckers, exploding its head and tearing its upper body apart.

The clicking of his empty weapon, made him throw the rifle down and grab his knife. There were two more suckers left and the batling overhead.

“Welcome to Thunderdome, bitches.”

The suckers came at Rimmer from either side. The one on his left grabbed his arm and managed to take a deep bite of his wrist. He cried out and kicked at the sucker, removing it from his arm. The sucker on his right made its own move and leapt.

Rimmer caught the sucker and buried his knife in its ribs. It hit the ground, taking the knife with it and out of Rimmer’s hands.

The sucker on his left grabbed a hold of him again, sinking its teeth even deeper into his bleeding wrist. This time the bite ruptured veins and arteries. Rimmer immediately felt light-headed as his blood started to escape into the monster’s sucking mouth.

He smashed his fist into the sucker’s face but no matter how hard he struck, the thing kept its jaws clamped tightly against his wrist. There were slurping sounds as the thing drank his blood.

The sucker with the knife lodged in its ribs got up and grabbed Rimmer’s other arm, biting open his other wrist and draining yet more of his blood.

Rimmer slumped down onto his knees, arms outstretched like Jesus on the cross. He felt himself growing pale.

The batling swopped down so that it was a mere foot from his face. “Enjoy your final moments, slug, as we devour your flesh as you humans would a helpless lamb. That is all you are now: lambs ready to be slaughtered.”

Rimmer snarled and spat at the batling. The wad of phlegm missed the batling, but it was enough to incur its wrath.

The batling swiped its claw and opened up Rimmer’s throat. Barely three seconds passed before all went dark.

• • •

Andy hurried deeper into the lab, searching for the room that held his wife. He found it up ahead and burst through the door. Sun was still sleeping but Dr Gorman was nowhere to be seen. What concerned Andy the most was the respirator mask over Sun’s mouth accompanied by the soft hissing sound of an open valve.

Andy grabbed the mask and threw it aside. He grabbed his wife by the shoulders and shook her. “Sun! Sun, wake up.”

“What is that stuff?” Jerry asked, pointing to the cylinder that was attached to the respirator mask.

West squinted and read the label. “It’s nitrous oxide. We use it to keep the prisoner’s under sedation while conducting tests.”

Andy had fear in his eyes. “Is it fatal?”

West shrugged. “At too high a dose, I’m sure it is.”

Andy shook his wife again. “Sun, wake up.”

“It’s too late, Mr Dennison.” Dr Gorman entered the room from the rear. She held a black revolver in her hand that was almost as big as her wrist to her elbow.”

“What are you talking about?” Andy asked.

“I mean that your wife is dead.”

Andy opened his mouth but no words came out.

“Crazy bitch!” said Jerry.

Dr Gorman snarled and pointed her gun at Jerry. “This is all your fault. When Kane let three strangers down here, I knew it would all end in disaster—even warned him of such.”

Nessie placed her hands up. “Thandi, why are you doing this? Nobody here is to blame.”

Gorman laughed. “Are you fucking joking? Between them they managed to sabotage this entire facility. I watched Mrs Dennison myself open up the batling’s cell.”

“She wasn’t herself,” said Andy, tears in his eyes.

“Well, now she’ll never be anything.”

Andy lunged at Gorman but West shoved him aside just as a shot went off. Andy hit the floor, panting in anger. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“I did your wife a favour. We’re all going to get ripped apart by the savage beasts that you yourselves released. It’s poetic in a way.”

“You’ve lost the plot, luv,” said Lucas.

“Yeah, she’s a bloody nutcase,” said Jerry.

“One more word out of you and I’ll shoot you in the stomach. Do you have any idea of the pain caused by your stomach acids leaking into your bloodstream and dissolving your organs from within?”

Jerry shrugged. “Is it as painful as listening to you talk?”

Gorman cocked her revolver.

Jerry flinched.

Instead of pulling the trigger, Gorman sighed. “Everybody sit down. West, place your weapon on the floor. I’ve noticed your trigger-finger twitching and I can’t say I care for it.”

West placed his rifle down on the desk and took a seat on a nearby swivel chair. He moved gingerly and Andy wondered if the man had been hurt.

“Now, we’re just going to sit here like good boys and girls until either Kane rediscovers his balls and destroys this place, or those creatures burst into the lab and rip us all apart.”

“Neither option sounds very appealing, Thandi,” said Nessie. “Is there not a third option?”

Gorman snarled. “Nessie, unlike you, when I pledged an oath to Deus Manus, I made the commitment to die one of two ways: defending this facility or destroying it. I will not try and escape. The only reward for doing so would be utter disgrace at what has happened here. While the rest of you may lack integrity, I intend to die with honour.”

“You speak of honour,” Andy spat. “You killed my wife while she was sleeping. You have no more honour than any other murderer.”

Gorman marched over to Andy, gun pointed down at him where he still lay on the floor. “How dare you speak ill of me. You came here and ruined my life, everything I worked for. I had plans, aspirations, and now they are nothing. All. Because. Of. You.”

Gorman pressed the revolver against Andy’s forehead. He reached up onto the table and grabbed a hold Sun’s hand. It was still warm. Then he closed his eyes. “Just do it already. Pull the trigger.”

“You don’t deserve an honourable death, Mr Dennison. You deserve to be executed.”

“Then do it,” he growled.

In Andy’s peripheral vision he spotted movement.

Gorman fired a shot but her arm was forced wide and the bullet buried itself in the ground beside Andy. She fired again, struck Andy in the stomach.

He fell to the ground, winded, but quickly realised that the bullet had lodged inside the thick book he had stuffed down his pants. He’d had a near miss.

Sun threw herself off the operating table and landed on top of Gorman. She let out a screech and began slashing and biting at the doctor. Gorman cried out for help, but no one stepped forward to oblige her.

Andy lay on the floor and watched in horror as his wife tore out Gorman’s eyes with her sharp fingernails. The resounding wail of agony was like grinding machinery.

Andy managed to get to his feet and grab his wife. He pulled her away from Gorman. She scratched and kicked like an enraged feline. Andy had to squeeze her tight in a bear hug to keep her from clawing out his own eyes.

West picked up his rifle from the table.

“No,” cried Andy. “She’s my wife.”

West sighed, turned his weapon on Dr Gorman who was writhing on the floor, blind and dying. He let off a single round, firing into her skull and ending her suffering.

West pointed his rifle at the floor and looked at Andy. “How can we help your wife?”

Andy fought to keep a hold of Sun. She bit at his arm, drawing blood.”

“She’s like a wild dog,” said Jerry. “No offence.”

“We have to help her,” Andy said.

“You cannot help her,” said Sun in a voice that was not her own. “Her mind is lost to the shadows of our will.”

Sun broke free of Andy’s grasp and smashed her elbow into his jaw. He went sailing backwards into a wheeled filing cabinet.

Sun pounced on West just as the man sought to raise his weapon. She struck aside his rifle and shoved him backwards.

Jerry ran at Sun but was swatted to the ground like a fly.

Andy tried to grab her from behind again but she turned to face him. He grabbed her wrists and the two of them began wrestling.

There was a sudden clunking sound.

Sun recoiled.

Andy looked left to see Nessie standing in the centre of the room, holding a large metal box. It was the source of the clunking sound.

Sun recoiled again, shielding her face with a hand and screeching.

“What are you doing?” Andy said. “You’re hurting her.”

“No shit,” said Nessie.

Another clunk.

Sun dropped down to her knees.

“Stop it,” Andy cried. “What are you doing to her?”

The machine in Nessie’s hands began to wobble, its weight becoming a burden. “I’m trying to help her.”

“How?” Jerry asked. “What is that thing?”

The machine clunked again.

“It’s a mobile x-ray machine,” said Nessie. “At Samhain, Bub’s only weakness was radiation. Perhaps whatever fugue has come over Sun came be broken by the same thing.”

Sun screamed and yelled, trying to get back to her feet but failing.

“Stop,” Andy yelled. “You’re killing her.”

“If we don’t help her, then she’s dead already.”

Andy grabbed a hold of Sun and cradled her in his arms. Her pupils were dilated and her nose was bleeding. Her chest heaved in and out in pained gasps.

“Sun, Sun, please, just come back to me.”

“A…Andy?”

Andy’s breath caught in his throat. He spluttered, tried to find words.

There was one last clunk and then Nessie set the x-ray machine down on the table.

“Andy…what…?”

Andy smothered Sun’s face in kisses. “Sun, thank God. Are you okay?”

“I…I don’t know. What happened?”

“You don’t remember anything?”

Sun shook her head, her eyes rolling back and forth tiredly.

Andy had tears in his eyes, but his relief turned to concern as West slumped unexpectedly to the ground.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Kane woke up on the floor of his overturned office. His cherry wood desk lay on its side against the back room and his desk chair had fallen across his shins.

For the most part he was completely numb, save for a stabbing pain in his left elbow. When he looked he saw the bone sticking out of his arm. He winced and fought back vomit.

He tried to roll onto his good side but found it hard to move. He shifted his legs up…

Only his legs did not move.

He prodded and poked at his thighs and was dismayed to find that they were devoid of feeling. As much as he focused, his legs would not respond.

I should have buried us all when I had the chance.

Kane closed his eyes and battled with the shame of what he had done. He had allowed his pride to contradict his duties. He had hesitated at a time where decisive action was required. It was a failure that he could not allow to stand.

I need to fix this. I made an oath to God.

Kane rolled onto his side and began dragging himself across the carpet. His legs dragged behind him like rubber tubing. Three feet away on the floor was Kane’s laptop, lying on its side. The screen was cracked, but lights on the keypad still blinked.

Kane’s vision went dark at the edges. He felt his heart beating in his chest. As he peered back behind him he saw that he was leaving a slick trail of blood behind him like a nightmarish slug.

Kane dragged himself the last few feet over to his laptop and rolled onto his hip. He reset the laptop into the correct position and tapped a key.

He held his breath as the cracked screen remained dark and the hard disk chattered and whined.

The screen flashed on.

Kane blinked. Then he began typing with one hand, his movements slow and jerky. He managed to login and bring up the facility’s systems.

SHUT DOWN FACILITY Y/N

Y…

EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS Y/N

Y…

TERMINATE FACILITY Y/N

…

Y…

CATASTROPHIC SHUT DOWN TO OCCUR IN 60 MINUTES Y/N

N…

IMMEDIATE SHUT DOWN Y/N

…

Y…

TERMINATION PROTOCOLS ACTIVATED.

Kane collapsed onto his back and stared up at the ceiling.

Then he died.

• • •

Jerry and Andy grabbed an arm each and got West up onto the examination table. The blood was coming from beneath the man’s uniform; the source was not immediately clear.

West growled as they poked and prodded at him, but he did not resist. Andy pulled up the man’s shirt to find a blood-slicked torso with a dark red wound at its centre. The books he had used as armour had not been thick enough to stop whatever had ripped him open.

“I-I got shot. W-when Gorman fired her gun.”

Andy’s eyes went wide. “Why didn’t you say?”

“Everyone was a bit…busy. I-I didn’t realise she got me so bad.”

Nessie knelt down and checked West’s back. She straightened back up with a grim expression. “No exit wound. The bullet must still be inside him.”

West let out a long breath.

“Get me a scalpel,” said Sun. She still sounded dazed, but was slowly coming back around to her old self. Andy’s heart swelled seeing that she okay.

Nessie set about the lab, searching in cabinets and cupboards. “Gorman was pretty stringent with her lab. I don’t know where anything is.”

“Just get me whatever you can find that might help,” said Sun.

“Let me help.” Jerry moved up alongside Nessie and adding to the search.

“Just hold in there, fella,” said Lucas. “You’ve cheated death this far, would be a shame to see you go now.”

West frowned at Lucas, but said nothing. It was clear from his expression that he was in agony but fighting it.

A siren sounded, loud enough to make everybody cover their ears.

Andy grimaced. “What the hell is that?”

Nessie looked at him. He rosy face suddenly turned alabaster. “It’s the facility shut down alarm.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we have about ten minutes before the place starts filling with cement. The Spiral is about to become a tomb.”

Andy shook his head. “Kane must still be alive somewhere. He would have done this. Jesus, we can’t catch a break. We need to get out of here. Somebody help me grab West.”

“Andy, lad,” said Lucas. He was standing beside West on the examination table. “I think the fella is going to rest right where he is.”

Andy walked over to see West’s gaping jaw and grey pallor. He checked the man’s neck pulse. And then sighed. “West is dead.”

“Then we need to get out of here right now,” Sun said.

“How,” said Andy. “Those things are still out there. The batling will be on us the moment we step out of the labs.”

Nessie patted the top of the x-ray machine and smiled. “This might keep the batling at bay.”

Andy nodded. “Okay, but what about the two suckers?”

Jerry picked up Gorman’s fallen pistol and placed it next to West’s assault rifle. “Anybody know how to use these?”

Andy shrugged. “I can probably handle the revolver. Not sure I’d be much use with the rifle.”

Nessie moved over to the rifle. She picked it up and ejected the magazine, examined it and then pushed it back in. She cocked the weapon and held it across her waist like a soldier on patrol. She noticed them all staring at her and gave a little shrug. “Let’s just say I didn’t always have my head in a book growing up. Dad was a bit of a gun nut.”

Jerry whistled. “Is it wrong that I find you kind of sexy right now?”

Nessie winked at him. “You’re just thinking about what other weapons I can handle.”

Andy cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should save the flirtatious banter for when we get out of this godforsaken place.”

Jerry blushed.

Andy picked up the heavy revolver and checked the cylinder. There were five bullets left. Then he stood in front of Sun and kissed her.

“What was that for?” she asked.

“To give me strength. If I’d lost you then there would have been nothing left for me to fight for. Long as you’re with me, I’ll fight whatever this screwed-up world can throw at me.”

Sun laughed. “I never saw you as one for grand speeches.”

“Before we got married, I had nothing important to make a speech about.”

“Time to go, me thinks,” said Lucas. “If what the young lass says is true, then you only have a handful of minutes to get yourselves out of here.”

Jerry hoisted up the mobile X-ray unit. Nessie turned the safety off her assault rifle. Sun held a table leg they had brought from the library in one hand and a scalpel in the other.

The troops were ready.

“Okay,” said Andy, getting a firm grip on the revolver. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Nessie led the way, seeing as how she had the biggest weapon. She led them through the corridors of the lab complex, heading towards the conference room. The silence that followed them was eerie; but despite the lack of sound, each of them knew that chaos and bloodshed filled every floor of the facility.

They reached the door to the conference room. Nessie unlocked the door, nudged it open. Jerry was right on her heel, staying close to her. Andy held onto Sun as he moved with his revolver pointed ahead. Lucas took up the back, unarmed as always.

The conference room was empty.

The siren was louder and there was a flashing strobe light spinning on the ceiling, but there was no other movement or sound. All of the room’s computers—the one’s still left standing—had switched off, leaving the room in near darkness. LED floor strips lit up amongst the debris, pointing a path towards the elevator. Not that the route offered any salvation.

“Where have they all gone?” Jerry asked.

Nessie scanned the room with her rifle. “I don’t know. Keep your eyes open.”

“I know where they’ve gone,” said Andy. “They’re trying to get out of here, same as us. The batling must know that the place is going to self-destruct.”

“He probably wants to join up with his buddies from the other facilities,” said Jerry.

Andy stopped. “What do you mean?”

“Rimmer told me that there were batlings at other facilities—they just showed up like they did here.”

“The cave paintings,” said Nessie. “The pictures of all the batlings leading armies of monsters.”

“That’s what all of this is about,” said Andy. “The batlings are trying to liberate an army. We have to make sure nothing escapes this place. Bub’s planning to start a war on humanity.”

“What if the other facilities have all fallen like this one?” asked Jerry. “What the hell will we be returning to even if we managed to get out of here alive?”

“We can’t think about that. We just have to focus on getting out of this place and making sure nothing gets out along with us.”

“Okay,” said Nessie. “Let’s head for the library. That shaft is our only hope of getting out of here.”

Andy grimaced as he stepped over a gobbet of flesh on the floor. There were puddles and swamps of gore everywhere; not to mention the mutilated bodies of the suckers that had been gunned down by West and Rimmer.

“Do you think Rimmer’s still alive,” Andy asked. It was almost a stupid question, but the fact was that nobody had seen him die.

“I hope he did,” said Jerry. “We had a bit of a bromance going on.”

Rimmer appeared before them, stumbling out from behind an overturned computer desk. His neck had dropped forward and now jutted out in front of him like a Halloween lantern on a stick. His beard had become a slick, glistening rope flesh that thrashed about like a newly-acquired limb.

“Something tells me he didn’t make it,” said Jerry.

“He certainly looks a bit under the weather,” said Lucas.

All around Rimmer, the random gobbets of flesh began to vibrate. Andy watched in horror as a pool of blood at his feet began to coalesce into something more solid. The glistening puddle rose up, first forming a pyramid-like shape, but then reforming into something else entirely, something indescribable. It looked like a spider, but had as many legs as a scuttling millipede.

“I don’t know what that is,” said Jerry. “But I really don’t like it.”

“I need one of my books,” said Nessie.

“No time to do research.”

“No, I mean so I can splat that disgusting thing into oblivion.”

Rimmer lunged at them, his head hanging out in front of him and his slick, thrashing beard taking on the shape of a dagger.

Andy shoved Sun behind him and fired off his revolver. The kick almost took his shoulder off, but he fought the sudden, unexpected pain and managed to fire again.

Both bullets hit Rimmer, the first taking off a section of his cheek bone, the second going wild and hitting him in the shoulder.

Chittering sounds filled the room as more gobbets of flesh turned into many-legged spiders. They all started skittering about, under tables and along walls.

Jerry wobbled on the spot and looked like he was about to pass out.

Andy grabbed him. “You okay?”

“I just don’t like spiders, man. They’re kind of my nightmare fuel. That and being buried by snow—don’t ask me why because I don’t know.”

Rimmer came forward again and this time Nessie let off a burst of fire from her assault rifle. The bullets missed Rimmer’s thrashing head and buried themselves in his chest. The glistening rope of his beard lashed out and grabbed a hold of Nessie’s rifle.

She fought to hang onto it, but found herself sliding on her heels towards Rimmer’s snarling jaws.

Sun leapt forward with her scalpel and swiped at the slimy beard, severing it in two like a piece of gristle on a bad steak.

Nessie tumbled backwards, the rifle still in her hands. Rimmer let out a pained snarl as viscous black fluid expelled from the open wound at the tip of his beard.

Andy took his opportunity and aimed his revolver carefully. He squinted, pulled the trigger, and then flinched as Rimmer’s head exploded in a fountain of gore.

“Sorry about that, Sergeant.”

One of the spiders fell from the ceiling and landed on Andy’s back. He immediately felt the pressure as the thing tried to bite him. It hissed right beside his ear.

Primal panic took over; he began spinning and thrashing on the spot like a mad man. Sun grabbed him and threw him forward over a table, doubling him over.

He was blind to what was happening but the pressure on his back increased for a second but then removed itself completely. The hissing stopped.

Andy turned around anxiously, only to see that his wife held the dead spider upside down on the end of her scalpel. She was smirking at him.

“Glad to have you back,” said Andy.

“Somebody has to save your ass. Just like old times.”

Andy laughed.

Hissing filled the room all around them as the remaining spiders scuttled out of their hiding places. “Time for us good guys to make an exit,” said Lucas.

Andy frowned. “I don’t think somebody who calls themselves the devil can claim to be a ‘good guy’.”

Lucas grinned. “My days of mischief are behind me, lad. Lucky for you.”

Jerry shuffled side to side, scratching at himself and glancing around nervously. He held the bulbous X-ray machine in his arms and appeared to be struggling. “Can we go now, please?”

A spider flew at Andy’s head. He just managed to duck in time. “Okay, let’s vamoose.”

The group ran towards the library, dodging hissing spiders that leapt at them from all angles. Nessie got hit by one and fell to the floor, but Jerry came to her aid and booted it away. He helped her up off the ground and they carried on running again.

“They’re everywhere,” cried Nessie. “Hundreds of them. We’ll never make it through.”

“I have an idea,” said Jerry. “Everybody keep running.”

Jerry skidded to a halt. Andy looked over his shoulder as the kid fiddled with the bulky machine in his arms. Spiders converged on him from all sides.

“Jerry, come on.”

“I got this, dude.”

There was an electrical humming followed by the familiar clunking sound as the X-ray unit started working.

Andy was forced to face forward as he made it across the room with the others. He was positive that Jerry was a dead man.

The clunking sound was joined by dozens and dozens of pained squeals and screeches.

Andy reached the library and wasted no time in yanking open the door. Everyone flooded through and closed the door behind them just as another kamikaze spider lunged at them. Andy felt it hit against the other side of the door.

“We have to go back for Jerry,” Nessie cried.

“He’s screwed,” said Andy. “He was completely surrounded by those things.”

“There’s no way he could have made it,” Sun agreed.

“We don’t know that,” said Nessie. “Open the door.”

Andy chewed his lip and then huffed. “Fine.” He grabbed a hold of the door’s handle and yanked it open. “This is going to get us killed. There’s no way he could have-”

Jerry came flying through the door like a bullet. He hit the ground and began thrashing around like a lunatic. “There’re on me. Dude, get em off.”

There were no spiders on Jerry but Nessie still knelt down beside him and batted and his arms and shoulders.

Andy looked at his wife in surprise.

“I guess his plan worked,” said Sun.

“I feel bad.”

“So you should,” said Nessie with an angry frown on her usually friendly face. “Shall we get the barricade back in place now?”

Andy shook his head. “No time. We have to get out of here before the concrete starts filling in.”

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, fellas, but I think the horse may have bolted on that one.”

Andy followed Lucas’s pointing finger and saw several hoses jutting out of the wall two inches from the floor all around them. They had started to release a fine mist of steam, but after a violent clug clug, a hot jet of grey liquid began to spew forth and cover the floor.

Andy shook his head. “Shit! We have to get moving right now.”

“The facility fills from the bottom up,” said Nessie. “The more dangerous levels go first with the Nucleus and the living quarters going last. If we can keep moving up we can outrun it.”

Andy rushed over to the open shaft at the back of the room. They had left the sturdy bookcase in place beneath it, but the ladder was still a good ten feet up from the top.

There was no other option but the climb the bookcase. The hot, setting cement was almost at their feet. Nessie hopped up onto the bookcase just as the pool was about to envelop her shoes. She looked like an old lady avoiding a mouse in the kitchen.

They all clambered onto the bookcase and climbed to the. They looked at one another as they balanced precariously, side by side.

Andy laced his fingers together and nodded at Jerry. You need to get yourself onto that ladder above. It’s our only way out.”

Jerry nodded and used the boost, flying upwards and managing to get both arms around the bottom rung of the ladder. He dangled for a few moments, grunting and heaving, but slowly he managed to hoist himself up.

Nessie went next, her small frame easy to hoist. She landed high up on the ladder and quickly climbed up after Jerry.

Sun stood opposite Andy, a concerned expression battling with her delicate features. “How are you going to get up, Andy?”

“Let me worry about that. Just go.”

Sun nodded sadly and took the boost. She grabbed the ladder with one hand and effortlessly swung herself up to the higher rungs. Her athleticism was still as impressive as always; especially considering what she had just been through.

Andy looked at Lucas. “You’re next, buddy.”

Lucas shook his head. “No, you are.” The Irishman laced his fingers together and nodded to Andy. “Don’t worry about me, lad. You get your arse up there.”

Andy shrugged and then stepped onto Lucas’s hands. He felt a brief spark go through his ankle and then he was sailing upwards, launched like a child by his father. He grabbed the ladder so high up that his head almost collided with Sun’s rear. They all managed to keep a grip, though, and moved upwards in a line.

Andy looked down at Lucas and worried about the man’s fate. But then Lucas leapt ten feet in the air and grabbed the ladder just beneath Andy.

“Woah,” said Andy, shocked by what had just happened.

Lucas grinned. “Being a supernatural being has its wee perks now and then.”

The hiss of pouring cement set their minds back to task. Each of them hurried up the ladder as if their lives depended on it.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The batling swept through the corridors of subbasement 1, rallying his troops and leading them to the surface. The facility was consuming itself from the bottom up and it was imperative that he liberated his army and joined his brethren in the war ahead.

I will not miss out on the glories to come.

The batling rose above his cohorts, looking down at them with pride. They stood beneath him as one single being: a legion.

“Yesss, I will lead you to a magnificent victory over the rancid hordes of humanity.”

There was a chorus of bloodthirsty growls, snarls, and hisses.

“We must leave this place—a place that has shackled you and your brethren for far too long. We must leave now and wreak our vengeance. We are the scourge. Let us return to our past glories.”

The army of beasts slithered, crawled, and stamped down the corridor of subbasement 1, heading towards the elevator shaft that would take them to the surface.

• • •

The ladder rattled and creaked with every step they took. Several times, Andy looked down at the terrifying drop beneath him, into the rising river of cement, and shuddered.

“We need to get a move on,” said Lucas. “I don’t much fancy taking a dip in that pool down there.”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” said Jerry from above them. “But exercise was never really my thing, you know?”

“Then perhaps you should have gone last, lad.”

“Cheers for that.”

“Don’t listen to him, Jerry,” said Andy. “You’re doing fine. Just keep going, one rung after the other.”

Jerry was huffing and puffing, gave no reply other than an affirmative grunt. He did, however, manage to pick up speed.

Andy focused on Sun, climbing the rungs just above him. He watched her regain her strength with every step, growing fitter rather than weaker like the rest of them. She was back to her determined self—back to the woman he married.

We have to get out of this place alive. I can’t watch her die.

After another two minutes of climbing, they neared a hatchway built into the side of the shaft.

“It’s the old maintenance hatch for subbasemnt 9,” said Nessie. “There should be one at each level. It will let us know how far much farther we have left.”

“Great,” said Andy. “So we have another eight levels to go?”

“No,” said Nessie. “We have eight subbasement levels plus the four other floors that house personnel and the Nucleus. We have another twelve floors in total until we reach the surface. Even then we have to deal with the fact that the shaft has been sealed at the top.”

“Let’s just concentrate on getting to the top,” Sun said, “before we worry about the next part.”

Everybody shut up and resumed their focused climbing. No sound existed inside the shaft, other than their laboured breaths and the soft pitter-patter of wet cement flowing beneath them. It was disconcerting.

Calm before the storm, thought Andy. Where is the batling? We can’t allow him to leave this place.

“Anybody got any charming tales to tell during this quite time of contemplation?” said Lucas. “Feels like if someone wished to unburden their souls, now would be a good time.”

“Giving a confession to the devil doesn’t sound like a good idea,” said Jerry. “Think I’ll pass.”

“Me too,” said Andy.

Sun let out a bitter laugh. “I did terrible things while under the influence of an ancient, malevolent being. I’m not even close to being in a place to talk about that just yet. First place I’ll go if I get out of here is therapy.”

Andy laughed. Therapy or not, he had hope that his wife would be okay. Not remembering her actions was a blessing.

“I’ll confess something,” said Nessie.

Everybody went silent.

“My dad was a terrorist. Emigrated to America from Belfast, but took his ties with him. I was just a little girl when he tried to blow up the British embassy in Boston. The car bomb went off, but somebody had parked a delivery van beside it, which dulled most of the blast. Seventeen people still died though, including a pregnant women one week away from maternity leave.”

“Wow,” said Jerry, breaking the silence that had fallen over everybody. “That’s…horrible.”

“Me and my mom were taken away and given new identities before the public could find out who we were and lynch us. My dad shot himself in a Dairy Queen parking lot before the police could capture him. When I kissed him goodbye that morning and went to school, I had no idea that I would never see him again—that I would never even be able to say his name again without my mom crying.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jerry. “I know what it’s like not to have a father, but I can’t imagine what that was like for you. Look how far you’ve come, though.”

“Yeah,” said Andy. “You should be proud of yourself.”

Nessie grunted. “Proud of myself for burying myself in a great big hole where the world can’t get at me? Truth is: I never got over what my father did. I threw myself into study, determined that I would somehow change the world. All it did, though, was lead me here.”

“You can still change the world,” said Sun. “But right now we need to stop the batling and his army from leaving this place. Do that and I guarantee you will save a lot more lives than your father took.”

“And whether or not it helps,” said Lucas. “The good Lord does not blame a man or woman for the sins of their fathers.”

“Thanks,” said Nessie. “It was nice just to get it off my chest. You people are the closest I’ve had to friends in…well, ever, really.”

“There’s another hatch up ahead,” said Jerry.

“Must be subbasement 8,” said Nessie. “Everyone still okay?”

Everyone groaned and nodded. Andy felt his calves cramping up and wondered if he could really make it all the way to the top. If he couldn’t then he was a dead man. They couldn’t even stop and rest as the cement was quickly filling the shaft beneath them.

Just ignore the pain. We have to keep going.

Another five minutes passed and they had ascended beyond subbasement 7 and started towards subbasement 6. Despite the cramps and tiredness in Andy’s calves, the pain was not progressing any further. If anything, the ache was turning to numbness. He started to feel hopeful that they could do this.

It wasn’t until they made it all the way to subbasement 1 that Andy began to have doubts.

The sound of chaos had returned.

Growls and snarls from animals that would not be found anywhere within the pages of National Geographic textbooks filled the corridor beyond the closed hatch.

Jerry stopped climbing, bringing the line to a halt. “Do you guys hear that?”

“Yes,” said Andy quietly. “Just keep going.”

Jerry nodded and continued upwards carefully.

So did everybody else.

It was Nessie that let them all down.

The assault rifle strapped around her neck swung back and forth as she climbed. Just as she passed by the maintenance hatch, the rifle butt struck against one of the steel rungs.

The hollow ring reverberated through the entire ladder, sounding almost like a church bell chiming.

Everybody froze.

The animal noises ceased.

A stretched-out moment of tense silence ensued. Andy could hear his heart beat in his chest. It pulsed in his eardrums.

The more time that passed, the more Andy was sure they’d gotten away with it. He waved his arm and signalled upwards. “Jerry, start moving again, but very very slow-”

The hatch burst open, the steel plate almost taking out Nessie as it flew into the shaft. A gap opened up in the wall, letting in a flood of light and, with it, a swarm of spiders.

They were the same as the ones they had seen earlier—many-legged monstrosities risen up from the blood and gore of carnage.

There were hundreds of them. And they could climb much faster than Andy could.

• • •

Jerry cried out. “Shit, man, what do we do? I can’t take anymore spiders.”

Andy swatted at a crawler on the wall of the shaft two feet away. “Just keep climbing. Fast as you can.”

Jerry started running up the ladder, his feet clattering on the rungs and making the entire ladder wobble.

Everyone began yelling out as the spiders swarmed on them, skittering around the walls of the shaft and surrounding them on all sides. Andy managed to swing his leg and crush one against the wall with the toe of his shoe, but doing so almost sent him slipping from the ladder. He was left with no choice but to concentrate on climbing. There was no choice but to ignore the relentless biting and scratching that drew blood from his flesh in a dozen places. He closed his eyes and ignored the feeling of glistening fangs opening up the back of his neck.

“These things are biting me,” said Nessie.

“No shit,” said Andy.

“Perhaps we should try biting them back,” Lucas suggested, as helpful as ever.

Andy took a firm grip on the ladder and allowed himself a quick shrug. He managed to dislodge the spiders that clung to him, but many more were ready to take their place.

“Look,” said Sun, pointing below them. “The cement is almost at the open hatch.

Andy looked down. The cement was steadily rising, only a few feet below the lower lip of the open hatch. Spiders were still scurrying through the opening, but they would be engulfed by cement soon. Andy also saw that the spiders he had just shrugged off were now thrashing beneath the surface of the cement, sinking to their doom.

“Everybody stop and fight,” said Andy. “We just have to hold them off a few more seconds. We need to deal with the ones already in the shaft.”

Everybody wrapped an arm around the ladder and held on tight. Then they kicked and flapped at the spiders, batting them down the shaft like some sort of hellish rainstorm.

The day it starts to rain spiders, just count me as done!

Andy felt blood running down the inside of his shirt; felt feverish from the mixture of pain and adrenaline. He was aware, however, of the relentless attacks reducing. The spider’s numbers were thinning out, and it was because the cement had now engulfed the hatch and cut off reinforcements. Andy and the others had only about ten feet of grace before the cement caught up with them.

A spider from above landed on Andy’s neck and hissed. He quickly batted it away into the consuming soup below. Several more followed as Andy kicked and swatted all around him.

The spiders were down to less than a dozen now. They ceased their attacks and seemed to be scuttling away to safety.

“Get moving again, Jerry. Quick as you can.”

With the needed boost of adrenaline, the line started moving upwards quicker than before. Each of them almost sprinted up the ladder, making only brief contact with each rung.

It was less than a minute when they passed by the maintenance hatch for level 4. They all slowed down and eyed the metal doorway suspiciously, each of them expecting, but praying otherwise, that the hatch would burst open like the previous one.

It did not.

“Come on,” said Andy. “Keep going. We’re almost at the top.”

He looked down into the shadows of the shaft below and could no longer even see the rising cement. They had gained a decent advantage, but a brief moment of dawdling could see that easily melt away.

They all kept moving, not stopping even as they passed by the other hatches. They made it all the way to level 2, where the Nucleus was located, when they were forced to stop.

“What is it?” Andy asked, squinting upwards. “Why have we stopped?”

“Because I just banged my bloody head,” came Jerry’s irritated reply. “The hatch stops here. It’s sealed tight.”

Andy focused his eyes and saw the ceiling. It was a vast sheet of metal attached to the shaft by thick rivets.

There was no getting through it.

“Looks like our happy trails end here,” said Lucas.

Chapter Forty

“We’re screwed,” said Nessie. We’re going to be stuck here until the cement catches up to us.”

“No,” said Andy. “We need to get through the hatch.”

“And go back inside with all of those monsters?” said Jerry. “We may as well let the cement get us.”

“We’re not going to stay here and die,” said Andy. He took a few steps down the ladder, prompting Lucas beneath him to move lower to accommodate him. There was a hatch on the wall between them.

“We have to get this open,” Andy said. “We’ll have to make our way through level 2 to the elevator and climb the shaft there. It will take us all the way to the surface.”

“And through a bucketful of nasties,” said Lucas. “But I would rather go down with my middle finger in the air, so I say it’s the best idea we have.”

Andy leaned away from the ladder, towards the hatch. “Help me get it open.”

Lucas reached out and grabbed a hold of an iron lever attached across the bottom. Andy grabbed a matching one above. Together they yanked the levers towards them.

There was the grinding of metal on metal and then the hatch loosened on its hinges. Andy grabbed the edge of the door and shoved it open, revealing the brightly lit room inside. It was filled with brooms and shelving units.

“It’s a store cupboard,” said Lucas. “Just what we needed. Now we can vacuum our way out of here.”

“Just get in there, Lucas. We don’t have long before the cement gets here.”

Lucas hopped off the ladder and landed inside the store cupboard. He immediately turned around and extended his arm to Andy.

Andy leapt from the ladder and fell into Lucas’s grasp.

The Irishman smiled. “You can have this hug for free, but the next one will cost ya.”

The two men waited in the hatchway as Sun, Nessie, and Jerry climbed down the ladder and leapt through the opening and into the cupboard. Once they were all inside, the small room was extremely cramped.

“Grab what you can,” said Andy, nodding at the various cleaning supplies.

Jerry grabbed a broom and removed the head. Nessie clipped a wrench to her belt as backup for her assault rifle. Andy still clutched his revolver, while Sun found herself two long necked screwdrivers which she wielded like a ninja. Lucas, as always, refused to select a weapon.

“Everyone ready?” Andy asked.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” said Sun, grabbing him around the waist and snogging his face off.

Andy spluttered, lost his breath.

Lucas grinned. “Well, if we’re going to die, that’s the note to end on.”

Jerry and Nessie looked at one another sheepishly, seemed to blush.

“Time to go,” said Andy, placing his hand on the door.

Then he opened it.

• • •

The hallway they entered was surprisingly quiet. There were no monsters and not even any bloodstains. The carnage of the facility had not reached this particular claustrophobic corridor.

“This is the restroom corridor for the Nucleus,” said Nessie. “If anybody needs the toilet…”

Everybody looked at one another, and then shrugged.

A quick bathroom break later and they were all assembled back in the corridor.

Nessie took a firm grip on her assault rifle. “Okay, at the end of this corridor is the Nucleus. It’s where a majority of the facility’s staff are located. Let’s just pray they were able to put up a last stand.”

Andy and Sun looked at each other. It was Lucas that said what they were all thinking. “I think any prayers we might have will be too late.”

“We need to move fast,” said Sun. “Before the cement reaches this level.”

Everyone nodded, minds refocused. They all jogged down the corridor, Andy and Nessie up front with their firearms. Nessie grabbed the door up ahead and wasted no time in opening it.

They all stepped through into the Nucleus.

“I think I’m gonna puke,” said Jerry.

The Nucleus was like a paddling pool of blood. Vast puddles of crimson lay inches thick with spongy gobbets of flesh poking out like chicken pieces in soup. Bodies lay slumped and dismembered over desks and work stations. Computers blinked and whirred despite their monitors being smashed to pieces and drenched in blood.

The elevator was at the other end of the room. Its doors were closed and dented.

The people in here were trying to get out. They were trapped.

“Come on,” said Andy.

The group stepped carefully through the gory debris and bloody swampland. Several times their feet slid out from under them and almost dropped them in the disgusting stew of human remains. It was only by treading carefully, and holding on to one another, that they managed to stay upright.

“The elevator is all beat up,” said Jerry. “How are we going to get to the top?”

Andy reached the elevator’s mangled doors and sighed. “I don’t know. But this is our only way.”

“Can we get something between the doors and wedge it open?”

Andy eyed a fist-sized gap in the centre of the doors where they failed to meet properly. He turned to Sun. “Give me that wrench you’re holding.”

Sun smiled, obviously understanding his plan. “Allow me,” she said, stepping over to the doors and shoving the wrench handle into the gap. She leaned her bodyweight against the other end, levering the doors open. The short length of the tool meant that she could only create a gap of about half a foot or so, but it was enough to allow the others in the group to get their hands inside and pull.

Andy, Nessie, Jerry, and Lucas all grabbed a hold of the elevator doors and pulled at them. They were thick and heavy, as well as twisted and bent, but they slowly began to creak and move.”

“Don’t you have super strength, Lucas?” Andy asked, heaving.

“I keep telling ya. You’d be surprised how ordinary I am. My pocket of tricks is fairly shallow.”

They got the doors open more than a foot, perhaps wide enough to squeeze through. Andy noticed there was a gaping hole in the floor of the vestibule.

“I guess trying to get the lift working is out,” said Jerry.

Andy looked up at the ceiling of the elevator. “We’re going to have to climb up. Let’s see if we can find a ceiling hatch.”

Everyone slide through the narrow gap between the doors and positioned themselves around the edges of the hole in the centre of the floor.

Andy reached up and prodded at the ceiling. Sun did the same, having to jump to make up for her lack of height. On her third leap, her hand pushed up against a metal panel and sent it flipping upwards on hinges.

Andy smiled at her. “Good going.”

The hole was narrow, but just big enough for a person to squeeze through. What was worrying was that the large panel was loose and unlocked, almost like it had been used recently.

Did some of the monsters already get out? Are we too late?

A rumbling sound.

“What the hell is that?” asked Nessie.

“Nothing good, lass,” said Lucas.

Andy looked down the hole in the floor and saw movement amongst the shadows. The myriad growls and snarls made what was happening obvious.

Nessie put her hands on her head. “They’re coming up from the lower floors. The monsters are coming this way to escape.”

“We have to stop them,” said Jerry. “We can’t let those things out of here.”

Andy swallowed. “For all we know, a dozen could already have escaped. Something killed everyone on this floor, but where are they now?”

“You think they got out?” Nessie said. “Oh no.”

“Let’s worry about that later,” said Sun. “We can do something about it then, but not if we’re dead.”

Jerry propped his broom handle in the corner and made a step by lacing his fingers together. “You first, Mr Dennison. You and your wife need to get out of here the most. You’ve been involved with the batlings from the beginning. You can stop them.”

Andy chewed at his lip and worried about what lay ahead. Even if they got out of there, things were not over.

Sun took Jerry’s assistance and stepped on his hands; thrust herself up into the ceiling hatch. She then turned and lay flat, dropping down an arm to help her husband. Andy grabbed her arm and leapt. He made it up through the gap and joined Sun in lending a hand to those still below.

Just as Jerry was about to help Nessie get a leg up, something startled them both.

An arm shot through the gap in the elevator’s doors and grabbed Jerry by the collar of his soccer shirt. He let out a scream and then managed to tug himself free. One of the suckers—an undead office worker from the Nucleus—was attempting to slide through the gap. Jerry grabbed the broom handle from the corner and jabbed at the sucker, striking it in its deadly jaws.

The sucker grabbed a hold of the broom handle and crunched on the end of it with its fangs, reducing it to splinters.

Jerry yanked back the length of wood, now sharp and pointed at its tip. A smile crossed his face. “Big mistake, panda tits.”

Jerry shoved the spike into the sucker’s chest, piercing its heart and making it shriek in agony. The beast fell away from the elevator’s doors and Jerry yanked back his makeshift spear, now covered in black blood.

Jerry looked over at Nessie and beamed. “You see that? I Buffy-the-Vampired that sonofabitch.”

Nessie giggled but then her eyes went horribly wide.

Andy cried out, tried to warn the kid.

Jerry’s mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out but a gob full of blood.

The sucker had recovered, the sucking wound in its chest leaking black fluids and already healing. It had reached through the gap in the doors and shoved a talon so forcefully into Jerry’s back that the front of his shirt was bulging as his organs fell out.

Jerry’s eyes were stuck open, his face contorted in a mixture of surprise and fear.

Andy’s yelled out, but he could form only grunts and mumbles, no words.

Nessie leapt towards Jerry, but Lucas grabbed her and held her back. “There’s nought to be done, lass. You have to go.”

Jerry reached out for Nessie, his fingertips quivering in the air. Nessie shoved free of Lucas’s grasp and reached out for Jerry. Her fingertips were less than an inch from his when he flew back through the gap in the elevator doors and disappeared.

“Jerry!”

Lucas grabbed Nessie around the waist and picked her up like she was a feather. “Get up there, girl. Before you end up the same way.”

Nessie fought against Lucas, but Andy was able to reach down and grab her shoulder. The additional contact seemed to snap her out of it. She grabbed hold of Andy’s arms and clambered her way through the ceiling hatch, sobbing all the way.

Something with tentacles tried to come up through the hole in the floor but Lucas stamped a foot down on it so hard that the elevator rocked. The creature screeched and retreated from the hole.

“Come on,” Andy shouted, offering his hand to Lucas.

Lucas looked up at Andy and smiled. “No, you folks go on without me. I think it’s about time I lent a hand. It might be against the rules, but I’m hoping God will forgive me.”

Something else came bursting through the hole in the floor and to Andy’s horror he saw that it was the batling.

“You are tooo late,” it bellowed at them. “My army is going to march on your cities and bring down your towers of Babylon.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of listening to yourself speak,” said Lucas, before promptly punching the batling right in the face. The batling plummeted to the floor of the elevator, but was quickly back up in the air. It swooped on Lucas and the two tangled together in a flurry of limbs. More creatures fought to climb up through the hole in the floor, but Lucas managed to kick out at them each time and keep them from entering. From the gap in the doors, another sucker appeared.

“Get your arses out of here,” Lucas shouted. “I can only keep them so long. I’m not Wonder Woman.”

Andy rose up onto his knees and closed the hatch. The sounds of the battle below became muffled, but it was clear that Lucas was fighting a losing battle.

Sun grabbed hold of the elevator cables that ran upwards and wrapped her leg around them. She shimmied upwards like a worm on a rope.

“Go on,” Andy said to Nessie. “Snap out of it and get your bloody arse up there.”

Andy’s attempt to speak in Jerry’s colourful English seemed to fill Nessie with resolve. She leapt onto the cables and started climbing. Andy waited for her to get ten feet or so up and then grabbed a hold of the cable himself. The three of them started upwards, heading for the surface.

But progress was slow and tiring.

The inhuman growls and snarls increased beneath them. The shaft above stretched for at least a hundred metres.

“The top of this shaft should take us to the staircase entrance,” said Nessie. “We’re nearly there.”

“Still looks like a long way to me,” said Andy. The burning in his lungs made his voice raspy.

“Just quit complaining, hubby, and concentrate on climbing,” said Sun.

“Yes, my darling ball and chain.”

“You’ll pay for that once we get out of here.”

“Looking forward to it. I think a spanking might be in order.”

“Seriously guys?” said Nessie. “You’re going to do this now?”

“Sorry,” said Andy.

“Me too,” said Sun.

Something seized Andy’s ankle. He looked down to see a tentacled creature much like a squid. It wrapped around Andy’s leg and starting climbing up his body. In the centre of the beast was a wide open maw, full of pointy teeth.

Andy gripped his revolver, inserted the muzzle into the thing’s mouth, and pulled the trigger.

The creature exploded and fell away. The recoil of the gun left Andy swinging precariously by one hand. He just about managed to wrap his legs around the cables when he was sure he was about to fall.

“What was that?” Sun shouted down.

“Oh nothing, just Cthulu’s ugly niece. Keep going.”

The three of them continued shuffling up the cables, swinging back and forth with every inch.

The shaft began to lighten, the shadows parting. They were nearing the top. Andy squinted as his eyes adjusted to the gradual increase of light.

“We’re almost there,” said Nessie. “I can see the level 1 elevator doors. They…they’re open.”

Andy sighed. Not good. If the doors were open then something had forced its way through. There was a chance that some of the Spiral’s prisoners had already escaped.

There was a bellowing roar from several feet below. It sounded like the pits of hell.

“It’s the cement,” said Nessie. “It’s catching up with us.”

“Good,” said Andy. “That means its catching all of the creatures beneath us. Lucas must have held them off long enough for them to get caught in the shaft.”

“What does that mean for Lucas?” Nessie asked.

“It means that if he really is the Devil, he’s one misunderstood fella.”

“He should sue the Bible for libel,” said Nessie.

“You will not leave here, Denisssonsss.”

Andy glanced down, just in time to see the batling rushing up from beneath them like a cruise missile.

“Shit! Keep going. Faster, faster!”

The batling swooped up around Andy’s head. He swatted and flailed, fought to keep hold of the cable.

Sun threw her wrench from above. It missed the batling and glanced off Andy’s shoulder, making him howl.

“Andy, I’m sorry.”

The batling slashed at Andy, drawing blood from his arm. Andy kicked out with his leg, connected with the batling’s body and sent it flying back several feet.

Nessie tried to aim her rifle, but it was useless from above. She would only hit Andy if she fired.

The batling came at Andy again. “You won’t live this time.”

“Neither will you,” said Andy swiping out with his revolver but missing.

“You cannot kill us. We are forever. We are the end of days.”

“You’re just a bunch of blowhards with a hard-on for speeches.”

The batling hissed and came at Andy again. Andy ducked.

The cement was rising quickly beneath them.

“Keep climbing,” Andy shouted. “The cement is rising.”

Sun and Nessie hurried up the cables, puffing and panting.

Andy shimmied up less than a foot when the batling came for him again. The cement was only a few feet away and rising.

Andy snatched at the batling and caught it against his chest. He clung onto the beast even as it slashed at his arms and chest.

Andy raised his revolver.

The batling cackled. “Your pea shooter will not harm me. I will heal in seconds.”

“That’s all I need,” said Andy. He aimed the revolver at the batling’s wing and fired off a shot.

The batling flew backwards, spinning in the air as it fought to stay airborne with an injured wing. It plummeted out of the air and hit the cement below.

“You will die,” screeched the batling as it thrashed and struggling against the clinging soup.

“You first,” said Andy, who immediately started climbing up the cables as the cement came within inches of his feet.

“Andy, are you okay?”

Andy looked up. Sun and Nessie had reached the top of the shaft. They were leaning out of the open elevator doors above.

Andy was tired, weary. His legs barely obeyed him. Every inch up the rope was a battle of will. A single missed step or a moment to catch his breath would spell certain death.

Andy let out a growl as he fought to find the reserves deep inside of himself. He crawled up the cables, pushing with his feet and pulling with his sliced-open arms.

But he could go no further. He had nothing left. His hands would not even close around the cable anymore. His wrists had turned to stone.

The cement came up beneath Andy like an embracing blanket. He fell backwards to meet it.

A hand grabbed the back of his shirt. Then another.

Andy looked up to see Sun and Nessie hanging down to grab a hold of him.

“Grow a pair,” said Sun.

Andy took a breath and found a single ounce of effort buried deep within his gut. He kicked out with his legs, shoving himself up the rope and into his wife’s arms.

Sun and Nessie managed to heave Andy up into the alcove of the elevator exit.

Sun smothered Andy in kisses. “Goddamn you, you almost gave up on me.”

Andy had no breath left but he managed to utter the word, “Almost.”

• • •

To everybody’s relief, the exit hatch opened when they reached the top of the stairs. Nessie still had her employee keycard which activated the lock automatically.

The blinding glow of sunlight caused them all to shield their eyes as they stepped out into the open-air. After so many hours of being surrounded by the stink of blood, the fresh air of the forest was divine. Andy managed to catch his breath back and filled his lungs with the pine-scented air of the clearing.

“Freeze!”

Andy looked around to see a line of black-suited soldiers pointing automatic rifles at him. Sun put her hands in the air and so did he. Nessie chose not to, instead she addressed the man in front of the line who seemed to be the leader. She held her employee card in front of her.

“My name is Gwen Nester. Senior Apprentice rank at facility 26, the Spiral. With me are Mr and Mrs Dennison, gifted associates brought in by General Kane.”

The soldier lowered his gun slightly. “Where is the General?”

“I assume dead. Do you know if anybody made it out before us?”

The soldier nodded. “Several dozen employees have already been evacuated. Another helo is en route.”

“Did anything…else get out of here?”

“We have multiple readings of creatures escaping into the forest. We have a lock on their GPS tags, but we’ve found a few discarded. Seems like some of the creature’s have managed to dig them out of themselves. Don’t worry, though, we’ll get them rounded up in no time.”

Andy sighed. As much as a disaster had occurred, at least these men seemed to have the situation is under control.

“The facility has now been completely destroyed,” said Nessie. “They’ll be nothing else through that door.”

“Roger that. You’re the current ranking officer of facility 26. You’ll need to give a full report upon arrival at the Albuquerque facility.”

Andy sighed. “I really can’t cope with another facility. “Of course not,” said the soldier. “We’ll take your report en route to where ever you wish to go. Then you can go back to your honeymoon. You’ll need to swear secrecy, of course.”

Andy nodded. “I know the drill. How do you know we were on Honeymoon?”

“I’m the Director of Homeland Security. It was me that requested you be here. I had a feeling that the batlings were planning some sort of attack on our facilities; seems I was right. Tallahassee fell a few hours ago and Toronto is currently under attack. We have it under control, though. Now that we know the play, we have armed forces converging on all of our sites. I’m eager for you to return to your lives as quickly as possible, Mr and Mrs Dennison. There’s nothing for you to do here anymore.”

“Amen to that,” said Sun.

A brief movement caught Andy’s eye, making him peer into the woods. He could not be sure, but he thought he saw a man staring at them.

Andy squinted harder. Lucas?

But whomever Andy had seen had disappeared between the trees.

Just then, a helicopter came in for landing, ready to take them far away from the nightmare. Andy held his wife and prayed that they had seen the last of Bub and his batlings.

Somehow, though, he knew that his prayers would end up going unanswered.

But until then, he had a honeymoon to enjoy.

Epilogue

The batling crawled up the final steps and out of the hatch. It had taken many hours to claw itself free of the hard-set concrete, but like anything solid, it could be broken.

Like bones and flesh.

Still, such effort had left it unbearably weak. Unable to use its wings, it clambered into the clearing on foot. The moonlight hurt the batling’s eyes, but the darkness gave it renewed hope.

In the trees were humans with guns, clearing up their messes and trying to erase their trespasses against his kin. He only hoped that his brethren had succeeded in liberating their own armies elsewhere. He would return in shame, but he would return alive and join the cause. There was still glory to be earned in the battles to come. Redemption was possible.

Skulking behind a nearby bush, regaining its strength every minute, the batling prepared to take flight.

“The first glory I will achieve will be ending the Dennison’s lives, after first making them my lowly pets and breaking them. If they think this is over…”

The batling stifled a laugh, lest it be discovered. “This is just the beginning. The beginning of the end.”

The batling took flight, rising above the treetops and heading to its next destination.

First Impressions

Little Sally O’Malley gave her father a great big hug. She loved the school breaks where she could stay home and help her daddy on their San Bernardino farm.

Sally loved the outdoors. Loved the feel of sunshine on her face and the sound of birds chirping. So much better than school where the only thing that covered her face was the shadows of bullies. Having a lazy eye was not the “beautiful difference” her daddy told her it was. Still, school was out for the week and she was here on the farm, ready to get her hands dirty.

“What can I do today, Daddy?”

Her father smiled, his cracked lips creasing between his salt and pepper beard. “Today we’re going to paint the old barn a new shade of red.”

Sally hopped. “Yay! I like to paint.”

“I know you do, honey. Now, go on and fetch me a bucket of paint from the storage shed. I’ve already pulled out the one we need.”

Sally shot out of the front door and onto the porch, before flying down the four wooden steps to the lawn. She raced across the sun-baked dirt towards the rickety old storage shed where her daddy kept the old ride-on mower and the tools he rarely used.

She rolled in the number code on the padlock dial and popped the lock. She yanked open the door and stepped inside. Sure enough, the pot of paint was right where her daddy had said it would be: sitting in the centre of the room in front of a bale of hay.

Sally took a step forward, her arm already outstretched to grab the paint can.

There was a soft growling sound from deeper in the storage shed. It sounded like another stray cat. Those pesky felines were forever taking root in the farm’s various outbuildings. Before her momma had died, she always warned Sally about feral cats and the diseases they could carry. Sally had made it a point in her life not to try and pet them when she saw them.

She approached the hay bale carefully, mindful of the dangers of a startled animal. If it was cat it could have her eye out in seconds.

The soft growling continued.

Sally took her steps slowly, kept her approach quiet, but not completely silent. She didn’t want to creep up on the thing so well that she scared the bajesus out of it.

Sally stepped around the paint can and looked over the top of the hay bale. The inhuman things which she saw hiding in the loose hay made her scream like an honest-to-God banshee. Her momma had never warned her about monsters.

• • •

Ted heard his daughter’s screams and immediately dropped the pitcher of lemonade he carried out onto the porch. The pitcher was a family heirloom, but that didn’t matter none; Sally was all the family he had left.

The screams continued and Ted felt his bladder loosen as he raced across the lawn. He couldn’t dread but think what had made his sweet little girl holler so mightily. The sound she was making was the worse torture he’d ever endured.

But the screaming stopped, replaced by silence. Somehow Ted found that even worse.

He made it over to the storage shed and spotted the open padlock. His daughter was most certainly inside. What made Ted pause and take a heavy breath was the thick red puddle leaking beneath the door, sending the dirt and hay a deep crimson.

Oh Jesus Christ no…

Please, no…

Frank kicked open the door, ready to face down whatever wild animal or heinous pervert had found its way onto his land.

What he found, however, was nothing.

There was a sound, soft and delicate, coming from behind the hale bale in the centre of the room. Frank stepped forward carefully, mindful of the sticky puddle beneath his boots.

He approached the hay bale, needing desperately to see what was on the other side, but also being unbearably afraid of what he might find.

If something had taken his little girl away, he would march right up into the farmhouse to fetch his shotgun. He’d put down whatever was responsible and then stick the barrel-end right in his own mouth. Sally was all he had left. If she was gone…

“S-Sally? You there, sweetheart?”

There was another soft sound.

Giggling.

Ted leapt forward and leaned over the hay bale. What he saw was like something out of a dream.

Sally looked at her daddy with sparkling green eyes. “Daddy, look! I found some friends.”

Ted studied the scene. He saw the messy paint can, red paint staining the sides. The puddles on the floor were obviously from a clumsy spill—not blood as he had dreaded.

But that was forgotten about now. What concerned Ted was the pack of creatures surrounding his daughter. The pale-skinned little critters had pointed ears and swishing tails. They were a little bit smaller than his daughter and were jumping and tumbling all over her, making happy squeaking sounds that mixed with the delirious laughter of his little girl. They looked like little devils with earthworm-like skin, but they were acting like puppies.

Sally looked up at her father, tears of happiness in her eyes. “I fought they was gonna bite me, but they just want to play. Can we keep em, Daddy? Can we?”

Ted looked at the bizarre little creatures and found that they were becoming cuter and cuter. The way they played, the way they squeaked. Frank shrugged his shoulders. “I…guess. I guess we can keep em.”

And so they did.

About the Authors

Joe Konrath is the author of more than twenty novels and dozens of shorter works in the mystery, thriller, horror, and science fiction genres. He’s sold over two million books worldwide, and besides Tracy Sharp he’s collaborated with bestsellers Blake Crouch, Barry Eisler, Ann Voss Peterson, Henry Perez, Tom Schreck, Jeff Strand, and F. Paul Wilson. He likes beer, pinball machines, and playing pinball when drinking beer. www.jakonrath.com

Iain Rob Wright was born in 1984 and lives in the United Kingdom, with his loopy cocker spaniel, Oscar, his fat old cat, Jess, and his beautiful wife, Sally. Writing is the passion that fills his life during the small periods of time when he isn’t cleaning up after his pets. He is currently one of the UK’s most successful horror writers and his current novels include the critically acclaimed, THE FINAL WINTER, the deeply disturbing bestseller, ASBO, and the satirical screamfest, THE HOUSEMATES. He will soon be releasing the first book in an exciting action-thriller series; featuring acerbic protagonist, Sarah Stone, and her ongoing mission to stop a terrorist threat. www.iainrobwright.com

Works by Iain Rob Wright

Ravage

Savage

The Housemates

Sea Sick

Sam

The Final Winter

Animal Kingdom

ASBO

The Peeling

Straight Up (with J.A. Konrath)

Works by Joe Konrath

Jack Daniels Thrillers

Whiskey Sour

Bloody Mary

Rusty Nail

Dirty Martini

Fuzzy Navel

Cherry Bomb

Shaken

Stirred (with Blake Crouch)

Last Call (with Blake Crouch)

Lady 52 (with Jude Hardin)

Shot of Tequila

Banana Hammock

Jack Daniels Stories (collected stories)

Serial Killers Uncut (with Blake Crouch)

Suckers (with Jeff Strand)

Planter’s Punch (with Tom Schreck)

Floaters (with Henry Perez)

Truck Stop (short)

Flee (with Ann Voss Peterson)

Spree (with Ann Voss Peterson)

Three (with Ann Voss Peterson)

Hit (with Ann Voss Peterson)

Exposed (with Ann Voss Peterson)

Naughty (with Ann Voss Peterson)

Babe on Board (short with Ann Voss Peterson)

With a Twist (short)

Street Music (short)

Jacked Up! (with Tracy Sharp)

Racked (with Jude Hardin)

Straight up (with Iain Rob Wright)

Other Works

Symbios

Timecaster

Timecaster Supersymmetry

Wild Night is Calling (short with Ann Voss Peterson)

Shapeshifters Anonymous (short)

The Screaming (short)

Afraid (writing as Jack Kilborn)

Endurance (writing as Jack Kilborn)

Trapped (writing as Jack Kilborn)

Haunted House (writing as Jack Kilborn)

Draculas (with Blake Crouch, Jeff Strand, and F. Paul Wilson)

Origin

The List

Disturb

65 Proof (short story omnibus)

Crime Stories (collected stories)

Horror Stories (collected stories)

Dumb Jokes & Vulgar Poems

A Newbie’s Guide to Publishing

Be the Monkey (with Barry Eisler)

Grandma? (with Talon Konrath)

Sign up for the J.A. Konrath newsletter. A few times a year I pick random people to give free stuff to. It could be you.

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HOLES IN THE GROUND
Copyright © 2014 by Iain Rob Wright and Joe Konrath

Cover and art copyright © 2014 by Carl Graves

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the authors.

June 2014