Date: 2011-10-23 07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; Horror
Description: The exciting sidequel to DEAD MECH is a hellride through Europe, Asia and beyond as American Ghost Heather Walton must save her family, her friends, and an all important cargo. The world has survived the North American zombie apocalypse, but Americans struggle to maintain their place in a world where the powers that be no longer want them. And will stop at nothing to put an end to their standing and their very existence!Haven’t read DEAD MECH? Not a problem! The Americans is a stand-alone technothriller novel that takes place at the same time as the events in DEAD MECH. Read either one first t
Publisher: SEVERED Press

The Americans

Jake Bible

Published by Samannah Media

Copyright 2011 Jake Bible

All Rights Reserved

This book is a work of fiction. All characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Cover design by ED

Edited by Jennifer Melzer

Acknowledgements

I have tons and tons of people to thank for making The Americans possible. Hopefully, I have already thanked them all. Most of all I need to thank my wife, Marti. Without her support none of this crazy crap would get put down on paper and released.

Love ya, babe!

Introduction

Well, Book Two in the Apex Trilogy is here! And it isn’t a direct sequel to DEAD MECH, but a sidequel.

“What the hell is a sidequel?” you ask?

Simple, The Americans takes place during the exact same time period as DEAD MECH, but with different characters in a whole other part of the world. It happens side by side with DEAD MECH.

“Jake, you crazy!” you say?

Well, yes, that may be true, but it doesn’t change the fact that a sidequel was a better idea than a direct sequel. You see, sequels start behind from the moment they are released. They are instantly compared to the first book and usually are more a bridge between book one and book three. Many a sequel is just a throwaway.

I didn’t want that to happen. I wanted a story that could stand on its own, with new characters and more world building. I couldn’t continue the saga in DEAD MECH without expanding the view to encompass the entire world.

And when the third book comes out it will bring DEAD MECH and The Americans together into one nice Apex. Hence, Apex Trilogy!

You dig?

Also, The Americans is not a Drabble Novel (see DEAD MECH for what a Drabble Novel is). I probably won’t write a Drabble Novel again for some time. It’s a lot of hard work. Plus, the way the narrative goes in The Americans, I actually have several sections that are less than 100 words! Bing, bang, boom, people!

Now, the true beauty of The Americans is that you can read this novel without having read DEAD MECH. Will you miss a little? Maybe, but not really. Just go read DEAD MECH and you’ll understand all. At least all that I have revealed.

So, I hope y’all like The Americans as much as so many of you have liked DEAD MECH. It’s different, it’s new, but it has all the kick-ass violence, gore, language and inventive tech and world building as DEAD MECH.

I can’t wait to bring them together and really make the world scream!

Cheers!

-Jake

October 2011

The Americans

Apex Trilogy, Book Two

Prologue

The members of the League of Monarchs were not pleased with the director and their holographic images showed it plainly.

“As I have said, Your Highnesses, the Three have assured me that everything will be in place soon,” Mr. Gein placated. A small, middle-aged man, pudgy about the waist and neck and director of the League of Monarchies Security Division (LOMSD), Mr. Gein stood before the holo-projections of all the reigning monarchs of Europe, trying not to sweat through his suit coat.

“But, you have been saying that for weeks,” Emperor Renaldo Giraldi of the Holy Roman Empire insisted. “We are tired of the delays!”

“Yes, Mr. Gein,” Empress Natalya Tartorov added. “When you first approached us with the Three’s proposal to remove the Americans from power and free the LOM and all of Europe from their oversight and martial authority, you promised us it would be a speedy process with little to no effort on our part.”

Mr. Gein held up his hands. “I understand your frustration, but this is happening quite fast despite the enormity of the task,” he responded. “It must be done correctly or we will not get a second chance, and the LOM will be left open for American takeover under the Articles of Sanctuary.” The monarchs grumbled and complained, but none offered any other solutions or withdrew their support. “Please, my Lords and Ladies, it will not be long before everything is set in motion. You can expect results within the week.”

“We had better,” growled Queen Constancia De Rivera of Spain. “Remember, Señor Gein, it is your neck on the chopping block, not the Three’s if this all falls through.”

The bureaucrat gulped and tried to smile, but it just made him look pain-stricken. “I understand, Your Highness, and I have always taken that into account. Thank you.”

The monarchs conferred with each other briefly and one by one signed off, their holographic images fading from the conference room.

When he was finally alone, Mr. Gein stepped to the sideboard and poured himself a generous amount of gin. He downed the drink and quickly refilled.

He activated his com. “Get me Mr. Continental right now!” He didn’t wait for a response, downing and refilling his tumbler yet again. He took a seat at the conference table and loosened his tie. “This had better work or the Americans will own us all…”

“It’ll work, Gein,” a woman said from the shadows.

The director jumped, spilling some of his gin. “Jesus, Isley! How long have you been lurking there?”

The woman laughed. “Since before your holo meeting began. You really should look in the corners when you enter a room.”

“Yes, well, I was never very good at field work. I leave the security to folks like you.”

“Folks like me? Mr. Gein, we’ve known each other for a very long time and you still don’t trust me?”

“On the contrary, dear,” Mr. Gein answered, fixing Ms. Isely a gin also. “I trust you completely. You just scare the shit out of me, is all.”

Ms. Isely took the offered glass and nodded her thanks. “Scare the shit out of you? I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Please do.” Mr. Gein raised his glass. “To a brave, new world!”

“Cheers,” Ms. Isely responded, clinking her glass against his before downing the gin. “Let us hope the Three know what they are doing.

Chapter One

“While the surface records were very authentic, upon further investigation it appears there is no true record of your existence, Ms…Kramer?” the warden said, his eyes focused on Heather Walton. “I’m guessing Kramer isn’t your real name?”

Heather looked about the room. Not a bit of biochrome in sight. She reached out, trying to feel any she may not have seen, but her body wasn’t responding, at least not to any external stimulation.

They know, she thought. Time to go to work.

“You did an excellent job of getting yourself thrown in here without attracting too much attention.” The warden’s fist was strong and swift and Heather’s head rocked back. “But we’re used to dealing with people like you. We’ve had the training.”

Yep, they know.

“You’ll find there isn’t a scrap of BC on this entire level. Even your shackles are made of good, old fashioned iron. Struggle as you like, you are in that chair until I say different.” The warden grinned, his tea-stained teeth barely visible in the gloomy light of the cell.

Heather spit blood onto the floor and smiled, matching the warden.

“Something funny?” the warden asked, looking back at the four guards standing behind him, all extremely muscular and only wearing a basic uniform, unadorned with any BC. They were prepared for Heather’s biochrome manipulative skills. “They aren’t laughing, so I guess not.”

“As far as you know, Ghosts don’t exist,” Heather laughed. “You know that, right? And you’ve never had one in this facility before. I know that for a fact.”

“I thought you just said Ghosts don’t exist?” the warden smirked. “How can you know we’ve never had one here if they don’t exist?”

“Because you’re still alive,” Heather glared. “You really need to scan better.”

“Scan better? I believe our security is more than adequate.” The warden shook his head and motioned for a guard to step forward. The large man closed in on Heather, his eyes glinting with violence. Before he could throw the first punch, Heather started to retch, her torso convulsing as if she would suddenly vomit.

The guard stepped back and looked to the warden. “I didn’t touch her.”

“I can see that!” the warden shouted. “Is she choking? Check her!”

The guard stepped forward again and grabbed Heather by the jaw, twisting her head back and forth. “What you got in there? Spit it out!”

Heather’s retching stopped immediately, obvious she had thrown something up into her mouth.

The guard reached out and started to pry Heather’s mouth apart.

“No! Wait!” the warden ordered, but it was too late.

A thin microfilament of biochrome shot from between Heather’s lips, piercing the guard’s left eye, shooting out the back of his head. A second microfilament worked its way down her face, shoulder, arm and began to work at the shackle on her right wrist.

“Kill her now!” the warden yelled to the remaining guards and they lunged for Heather.

The microfilament in the dead guard’s skull retracted and Heather turned her attention to the other muscled men. She spat quickly and the lead guard fell, his chest pierced by BC. Heather retracted again and repeated the motion on the next guard. The last guard was on her before she could spit again, but the shackle on her wrist clicked free and she had him about the throat, crushing his windpipe instantly.

The warden lunged for the cell door, his hand reaching for the simple alarm switch in the tech-free cell, but was tripped up by the line of biochrome now held in Heather’s right hand.

“No. Please stay. We have work to do,” Heather snarled as the shackles on her other wrist and ankles fell away.

Two fists to the warden’s face and he was stunned quickly. Heather patted the man down and smiled when she felt the comforting presence of BC. “Hip replacement? Did you think I wouldn’t notice that?”

The warden’s screams never made it passed his throat as Heather slammed her elbow down onto his Adam’s apple. His eyes filled with terror and pain as she formed the BC microfilament into a scalpel and began slicing.

***

The teenagers filed into the classroom, their voices raised in heated discussions about the latest music, holos and weekend social events.

“Settle down, all of you!” Ms. Tinsdale barked from her desk. “You may chat after class.”

The boys and girls frowned and their voices gradually lessened to whispers as they took their seats.

Ms. Tinsdale stood up and began making notations on the data board once everyone was seated. The class waited patiently for her to finish, none of them pleased with the words that lit up on the board.

***

Heather tossed the warden’s severed hand and plucked eyeballs aside, no longer needing them to bypass the security, and ducked under the oncoming guard’s swing. She brought her fist up and BC shot out, wrapping about the man’s neck as she rolled her shoulder, tossing him over her back and onto the corridor’s floor. The guard’s neck snapped easily, the sound echoing off the corridor’s walls. Heather had the dead man’s biochrome baton in her hand and swinging before the second guard registered what was happening. His face caved in from the impact and Heather instinctively ducked, letting most of the blood spray over her shoulder. Heather didn’t like blood.

Grabbing the second guard’s baton as well, Heather shoved through the corridor’s security door before it could close, the biometric alarms locking things down as soon as the guards’ pulses no longer registered in that level’s security system.

“They go to all the trouble of having a BC-free level and then screw it all up by letting monkeys carry BC batons up here,” she muttered to herself. Seven more guards rushed towards her from down the hall, covering the ten meters between them and her quickly, their batons ready. “Bureaucratic amateurs.”

On either side inmates cheered, not caring who won the fight, just glad for anything to break up the monotony of incarceration. Heather bounced from wall to floor to wall, her feet springing off and propelling her quickly back and forth, confusing the guards.

The batons Heather held in each hand began to melt and meld with the rest, the BC changing at her will, each baton taking the form of a Berretta M9.

Without hesitation she lifted the pistols and fired. The guards whose chests weren’t ripped open by the armor piercing slugs dropped to the floor, screaming into their coms for backup. They were able to sound the alarms and warn the other guards for only two seconds, the time it took Heather to close the distance and end their lives brutally.

Without losing stride, she snatched up more batons, incorporating their mass with the Berettas, the BC melting instantly then reassembling in the shape of two TG12 sawed-off auto-shotguns.

She hit the corner and dropped, sliding across the floor to the far wall, aiming one shotgun left and one right, firing three rounds each. More guards fell.

Back on her feet, she went over the map of the facility she had memorized and tried to place where she was and where she needed to go. In milliseconds she had her destination and set off full speed towards her goal.

***

Ms. Tinsdale stood up from her desk and crossed to the data board. The fifteen students seated before her watched as she pointed to the words, “League Day: Origins and Explanations”. There was an audible groan from the class.

“Now, now, settle down,” Ms. Tinsdale said, waving away the complaints. “You knew this was coming. We all have to be ready for the celebration in three days. Loudon Secondary will be and we have lost to them the past six League Days. Headmistress Ellis has expressed that she shall be quite disappointed if it becomes seven years in a row and Gramercy Secondary is the laughing stock of all the London preparatory schools once again.” She turned from the data board and surveyed the class, settling her eyes on a seventeen-year-old boy busily chatting with the seventeen-year-old girl seated next to him at the back of the classroom. “Russell? Can you tell the class why we celebrate League Day?”

Russell winked at the girl and twisted in his seat, bringing his attention to bear on Ms. Tinsdale. He flashed his already legendary smile and brushed a lock of blond hair out of his eyes. “Well, Ms. Tinsdale,” Russell began. “So we can sell fireworks and cook big steaks over flames, of course. Other than that there really isn’t any point, is there? Except to make the Americans feel like they are welcome.” Many in the class snickered at the last comment.

***

Mr. Stone, an average man, of average build, the type passed by everyday and thought nothing of, held the teaspoon over the gas burner, watching the metal turn from perfectly polished to soot black to red hot. Stone walked from the gas range, stepping over a man’s brutally beaten corpse and stood directly in front of a woman and her three teenage children, two boys and a girl, bound to kitchen chairs and all just as brutalized as the dead man, but lucky enough to still be breathing. The permanence of that luck none of them had illusions about.

Mr. Stone paced back and forth for a bit then stopped in front of one of the teenagers, a boy sporting a nasty gash to his left cheek, his hair sticking to his sweaty, damp forehead.

“Now, you,” Mr. Stone said, pointing the still glowing spoon at the boy. “You are a registered Tech also, like your father is…well, was. Correct?”

“Say nothing, Allan,” the woman croaked through split lips and broken teeth. “We are all dead anyway.”

“Allan, I’d advise against listening to your mum,” Mr. Stone said. “I don’t want to hurt you or any of your family—well, not anymore than I already have, but you see, we have confirmed that certain data was passed through here only a few days ago. It was delivered to someone, yet all the building’s security holos are blank. I need to know what that data was and who it was delivered to.” He grabbed Allan by the chin, forcing the boy to look at him. “If you don’t tell me willingly then one of your siblings will have to help me coax it out of you.”

The young girl, maybe fourteen, let her head drop to her chest and choked back sobs.

“Ah, a volunteer,” Stone smiled, grabbing the girl by the back of her head and straddling her lap. The girl jerked her head, but didn’t have the strength to resist Stone. “Must have been such a pretty face before Reginald did this to you.”

“What? Whatcha need?” a high pitched man’s voice called from the living room. “You need me, Stone?”

Stone smiled and rolled his eyes comically, making a show of it for his captive audience. “No, Reggie, just making a point.”

***

“The point, Mr. Shaye,” Ms. Tinsdale said, “is so we always remember how quickly civilization fell apart and was nearly lost before the League of Monarchies was formed and the Americans were tasked with keeping the peace.”

“Fucking Jacks,” a student muttered. Nervous laughter followed, but stopped as Ms. Tinsdale’s gaze hunted for the culprit.

“I have said it before that I will have none of that bigotry in my classroom,” Ms. Tinsdale scolded. “Regardless of your political or religious beliefs, the Americans have kept the peace in Europe for over three hundred years, despite not having a home of their own. They deserve our respect and our gratitude. How would you feel if while you were away at classes your home was destroyed, burned from the Earth? It would not feel so good, would it? Well, the Americans have no home except for what they are allowed in the Articles of Sanctuary and we should pity them for that.”

***

She could sense the Shock troops before they even turned the corner, their BC singing to her. Heather came to a sliding halt and double pumped her legs back the way she had come, hoping she could get some distance between herself and the troops.

“Got her!” a metallic voice rang through the hall and Heather dove to the ground as the first wave of bullets flew over her.

Her momentum keeping her moving, Heather twisted onto her back and took aim, morphing the simple auto-shotguns into an RPG and letting it fly. It took all of the BC mass and she was left empty handed, but the destruction of the three Shock troops was worth it.

Heather was back on her feet and sprinting through the smoldering armor before the explosion stopped ringing in her ears.

***

“Melissa? Maybe you can help Mr. Shaye explain League Day?” Ms. Tinsdale asked.

“Of course, Ms. Tinsdale. I would be happy to,” Melissa Brenton answered, rising from her seat and stepping to the front of the class.

“You can stay seated, Ms. Brenton,” Ms. Tinsdale said slightly annoyed.

“Oh, I don’t mind, Ms. Tinsdale,” Melissa said. “League Day is so very important. I would hate it if the entire class couldn’t hear me.”

Most of the students rolled their eyes as Melissa straightened her skirt and smoothed her blouse. “League Day is the official celebration of the signing of the armistice that ended the Brimstone Wars and created the League of Monarchies across Europe. In addition, it is the day the Americans became Europe’s official peacekeepers, ensuring that each Monarchy could rule without conflict and the citizens of Europe could be satisfied that no Kingdom had military dominance over its people or over another Kingdom. This has been assured in the Articles of Sanctuary. In exchange for this status, and for the sanctuary the articles allow, the Americans shared much of their technology with us, especially biochrome, the result of their pioneering work in the field of genetic metallurgy.”

***

“You know, doing this really doesn’t make me happy,” Mr. Stone said, bringing the red hot spoon to the girl’s eye. “Well, maybe a little.”

Stone plunged the spoon into the side of the socket and twisted. The sizzle of burning flesh was heard for a split second before the kitchen filled with the girl’s screams. The woman and two boys thrashed in their seats, flinging obscenities at Stone. “You Jacks always have had such a rich history of salty language. Maybe that will be your legacy after you are all finally wiped from the planet.”

Stone pulled the spoon from the girl’s eye socket and the eyeball came away with a slight, wet pop. He picked the eye from the spoon, some of the flesh sticking to the still hot metal, and tossed it up and down in his palm. “Such a waste.”

***

“No, Anthony, the answer is not they’re a bunch of wankers!” Melissa snapped, struggling to get her anger under control.

The classroom burst out laughing and Ms. Tinsdale stood up, clapping her hands loudly to get the class’s attention. “You will take this seriously or it will become an overnight assignment,” she barked. “A five page assignment! Am I clear?”

“Yes, Ms. Tinsdale,” the class answered in unison.

Melissa still stood at the front of the class, her cheeks flushed and chest puffed out. Ms. Tinsdale took her by the shoulder and guided her back to her seat next to Anthony’s.

“Thank you, Ms. Brenton.” She strode back to the data screen and tapped at the corner, erasing the words written earlier. A small blue dot began to pulse and Ms. Tinsdale tapped at it. “Okay, since this is proving to be such a chore for all of you, I am going to make this fun. Down the middle. Right side Team A, left side Team B. I ask the question, first team to answer gets a point. Team with the most points get out of takehome for the rest of the week. Ready? First question…”

Melissa casually leaned over and placed her hand on Anthony’s crotch. He looked at her, surprised, and she smiled. Then she squeezed. Hard. He started to cry out, but she squeezed more and put her finger to her lips. “Ever embarrass me like that again and I’ll take these, batter, deep fry and feed them to you bit by bit. Understood?”

Anthony nodded quickly, tears in his eyes. Melissa let go of his crotch and gave it a friendly pat. “Nice equipment, though. I am impressed.”

***

It wasn’t that it was too easy, which it wasn’t, it was just that Heather succeeded at a faster pace than even she could have imagined. She wondered if she wasn’t being set up, but considered what she was after and highly doubted it. Maybe she just got lucky. Or maybe she was just that good.

All those thoughts ran through her mind as she ducked her head, feeling the bullets getting closer and closer to the back of her skull. What she wouldn’t have given for a hunk of biochrome right then, but the LOMSD was too careful, making sure their holding facility was built of good old standard wood and plaster, probably built around a dirty steel frame, but no BC except for the weapons and the armor the guards wore. This insured that the building couldn’t be taken down by Ghosts, which the Americans never confirmed existed, but the LOMSD knew were a part of their military structure.

Of course, the LOMSD had too little intel on the Ghosts’ actual abilities, hence the mistake of even allowing the guards on that level to carry BC.

“Amateurs,” she muttered to herself again.

Heather dashed around the corner and came to a full stop. Seven Shock troops stood before her, their shiny body armor reflecting and warping her image. Behind them were at least two dozen armed guards, riot guns and batons at the ready should she get past the Shock troops.

Well, she had the BC she wished for, all she had to do was take it. And survive.

***

“I’m running out of patience, Allan!” Mr. Stone bellowed, tossing the boy’s sister’s right ear onto the floor after reheating the spoon and burning it from her head. “I need to know who you gave the data to! Tell me, you fucking Jack abomination!” He leaned in close to the mutilated girl. “They don’t really love you,” he whispered as he reached out and snapped her neck.

The mother screamed and Stone lunged at her, his left hand gripping her throat until all that came out of her mouth were weak choking noises. Her eyes bulged in her head and she tried to struggle, but it was already too late. Her face turned a deep red then purple and finally, slowly, she stopped struggling and became still.

The two boys glared at Stone as he withdrew his hand and flexed his fingers.

“Don’t know my own strength sometimes,” Stone muttered. He looked from the dead woman to the boys and shrugged. “Whatcha gonna do?”

Allan and his brother sat there, adolescent fury burning behind their eyes. Stone flipped open a knife and cut the woman loose, knocking her body to the ground, grabbing her chair and turning it about so he could face both boys while sitting, his arms folded across the back of the chair.

“Boys, boys, boys, you hate me. I get that. Hell, I’d hate me if I wasn’t me, but I am me, so I don’t,” Stone said, the knife still in his hand. “I know brothers talk, tell each other things, so one of you is going to tell me what I want to know or I will slice your peach fuzzed scrotums open and let your wet, exposed balls dangle free. Then I’ll take my knife and very carefully shave a slice off of each nut until there’s nothing left. Who’s first?”

“I haven’t had a data assignment in months!” Allan yelled. “There’s nothing to tell!”

“Oooh, that’s disappointing,” Mr. Stone grinned. “For me and for you.”

***

“What was the official date the Brimstone Wars started and which nation or religion struck first?” Ms. Tinsdale called out.

“January 3rd, 2173!” a boy cried out from the left side.

“Israel!” a girl yelled from the right.

The class looked to the board and a hash mark appeared in the right and left sides’ columns.

“Tie!” Ms. Tinsdale said. “Next, question? What year did the Indian Hindu Army launch a full scale nuclear offensive against the Pakistani Islamic Brigade?”

“2178!”

“2179!”

“2180!”

“None! The Pakistani Islamic Brigade launched the first strike. India was only able to retaliate because they had twice as many nukes, giving the popular misconception that India was the one that launched the strike simply because they were able to finish it!” Melissa cried, leaping from her seat. A couple of the other girls snickered, but Melissa ignored them. A hash mark was added to the right side’s tally.

“Well done, Melissa,” Ms. Tinsdale praised. “Bonus question: when did the Anglican Church officially enter the Brimstone Wars and why?”

“No fair! Why does she get a bonus question?!?” a pug faced boy yelled. “Because she’s the most annoying?”

“That’s enough, Mr. York!” Ms. Tinsdale scolded. “Melissa? Do you know the answer?”

“Archbishop Ashton declared war in, um, 2175? Yes, 2175. After Pope Alexander decreed that all Christian sects not beholden to the Catholic Church would be judged as heretical and enemies of God!” Melissa answered.

The class once again watched the board and two more hash marks were logged into the right side’s tally.

“Two points? Booo!” several students hollered.

***

As the bullets came at Heather, time seemed to slow. She knew what she had to do, but fuck if it wouldn’t hurt. Heather positioned her body and braced herself for the impacts.

The bullets, all made of BC, ripped through her flesh, tearing into muscle and sinew. Heather writhed like a dancer, shifting and adjusting her body so the bullets wouldn’t hit bone or vital organs. When she knew she had enough, she succumbed to the force and let her body collapse onto the ground, blood streaming from the wounds.

Heather shivered at the amount of blood and cringed. She knew it would be a while before she could wash it off. She immediately set to work controlling the BC, hoping she could form it into what she needed before shock set in or she bled to death.

***

Mr. Stone slammed the mind spike into Allan’s forehead. The boy tried not to scream, tried to be as strong as his brother had been while Stone carved him up, but the pain was too intense. Allan just couldn’t take it and reared his head back, letting loose with an ear splitting scream.

“Jesus!” Mr. Stone exclaimed. “I haven’t even turned it on.” With that said, Mr. Stone tapped at his wrist display and the mind spike activated. Allan’s scream was cut off and his mouth opened and closed, his lips smacking like a fish gasping for breath. Stone watched the display, but nothing came up. “Fuck! He’s empty!”

Stone slashed Allan’s throat, quickly stepping out of the way of the arterial spray, trying not to trip over the body of the other boy or slip in the blood pooled about him. “Fucking hell!” he screamed. “I fucking hate Americans! Goddamn Jacks and their mother fucking conditioning! FUCK!”

Stone watched the life leave Allan’s eyes and kicked out, knocking the teenager on top of his brother’s corpse. “FUCK!”

“Hey, Stone!” Reginald called from the living room.

“Fucking what, Reggie?” Stone yelled.

Reginald, a tall gaunt man, walked into the kitchen with a holo disc in his hands. He glanced casually at the bodies, not really giving them any thought. “Found this.” He tossed the holo disc to Stone. “Think it may be what we are looking for.”

Stone tapped the disc and a small holographic image of Allan talking with a girl came to life. “What is this? Teen chat?”

“No, just watch,” Reginald said, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. “It’s this morning. Yanked it from the Jacks’ personal security. They had the console hidden behind a painting of dogs. How stupid do they think we are?”

Stone stared at the two teenagers until he thought his patience would finally run out. He scrunched up his face, ready to lay into Reginald, when the boy and girl embraced and they both shook violently, close to seizure. After a minute the two pushed away from each other, embarrassed and confused, then the girl dashed from the holo. The image flickered and went away. Stone smiled. “That’s interesting... Did that look like a data transfer to you, Reginald?”

“Not any data transfer I’ve ever seen, Mr. Stone,” Reginald answered.

“True, but it does fit the profile for data transfer to a Vessel. How fucked up would that be if we actually come across a living, breathing Vessel?”

“Well, Mr. Stone, considering how hard this assignment has been, I’d say that would make sense,” Reginald answered. “How exciting! A mythical Vessel! I wonder if they bleed the same?”

“We may well find out,” Mr. Stone smiled. “Hell, Allan may not have even known! Poor kid… Ahhh, teenage hormones, always a compass for trouble.”

***

“Last question,” Ms. Tinsdale announced. “It’s a tie, so this is for the win.” She looked around the room, trying to build the anticipation. She mostly found bored faces, ready for the school day to be done. She sighed and continued. “It is widely held that the Americans’ neutral involvement in the Brimstone Wars is what finally brought the worldwide conflict to an end. However, many economists believe that the Americans’ introduction of biochrome was even more influential. What made BC so important to bringing peace and stability?” Half the class was no longer paying attention. Ms. Tinsdale waited for an answer, her face showing her growing impatience. “Ms. Laughlin? You haven’t participated at all today. Why do you think BC was so influential?”

The class watched Beth Laughlin as she looked up from the book she was reading, sunlight from the windows playing across her face, the face of the girl in Allan’s holo. Her clothes were out of date and she looked like she could use a good makeover. Some of the others giggled at the puzzled look on her face. “I’m sorry, Ms Tinsdale, what was the question?”

Ms. Tinsdale sighed. “Never mind, Ms. Laughlin. Go back to your book. Let us know when you want to participate.”

Beth shrunk into herself, trying to disappear from the class. Melissa looked at her and mouthed the word ‘freak’. Beth frowned and brought her book up to cover her face. Some of the kids laughed cruelly.

“Okay, class, that’s enough. Leave Ms. Laughlin be…”

Chapter Two

Two of the Shock troops approached Heather’s body, weapons ready, one behind and covering the other.

“She appears to be neutralized,” one said over his com.

“Careful,” the other responded. “Ghosts are tricky.”

“When have you dealt with a Ghost?” the first asked gruffly.

No sooner had he said that than Heather’s eyes flicked open. Even with their Shock suits’ tech, neither of the troopers even registered the thin line of BC filament that flicked out from Heather’s hands, wrapping about their legs. Both troopers began to scream as their BC suits were ripped off their bodies without the proper disengaging procedure, their jack points torn right from their skin and grafted bone.

Heather’s wounds sealed as she got to her feet, unseen microscopic BC sutures repairing the damage. She’d hurt for a while, but the BC would have her fixed up in no time. The rest of the BC Heather ripped from the Shock troops’ suits morphed and melded onto her body becoming an active array of various weapons and blades.

None of the guards moved; some forgot to breath.

“You’re all going to die,” Heather grinned. “You realize that, right?”

Half of the unarmored guards turned and bolted, leaving the others shaking in their fear.

Heather struck so fast that when the holos were reviewed she was nothing but a blur. And for those in the hall that could track her, it was the last thing they saw.

***

“Thank you for joining us, Ms. Laughlin,” said Mr. Weber, one of the younger teachers at Gramercy. “We haven’t inconvenienced you by starting class already, have we?”

Beth didn’t respond, just kept her head down and took the first open seat at one of the science lab tables.

“Great,” muttered Melissa, looking at Beth sideways as she sat down. “I get the freak.”

Beth didn’t respond, just looked at the desk’s surface.

Melissa’s hand shot up immediately.

“Yes, Ms. Brenton?” Mr. Weber asked wearily. “Let me guess, you want to move. Unfortunately, the class is full and I don’t feel like rearranging everyone to suit your wants. Can you tough it out for us?”

The class snickered while Melissa lowered her hand.

“Well, as I was saying before Ms. Laughlin and Ms. Brenton decided to hijack the class with their engaging personalities, your biochrome projects are due today. Please set them out and have them ready as I walk around the room. Summaries and findings should also be ready to hand in and I will collect those as I assess your project. But, before you do, since Ms. Laughlin decided that being on time wasn’t a good idea, maybe she could read what is on the data screen?”

Beth blanched then sighed and silently read over the words at the front of the class.

“Anytime now, Ms. Laughlin,” Mr. Weber said. “I know other teachers have given you an easy time since you are fairly new to Gramercy, but in this class I expect participation. At least if you want to pass.”

“Biochrome: a combination of recycled metals combined into one malleable metal alloy,” Beth began, uncertainty making her voice waver slightly. “Biochrome is the only material that has been fused with organic DNA which allows each individual molecule to be programmed in order to create one cohesive, solid state product, free of moving parts or separate micro-processors. It is a product of the science known as genetic metallurgy.”

Mr. Weber smiled at Beth. “Very good. Now would you care to continue?”

“Biochrome is now the world’s most used material and makes up nearly 85% of all finished goods,” Beth said. “Some consider the material to be a living, breathing entity, responding to touch-.”

“That’s enough, Ms. Laughlin,” Mr. Weber interrupted. “We can do without the commentary.”

Beth looked alarmed. “I’m sorry, Mr. Weber. I don’t know why I said that last part.”

Mr. Weber waved her off and glanced around the room. “Well, what is everyone waiting for? Projects on desks now!”

Melissa immediately set her project case on the table while Beth dug around in her satchel for hers. Melissa tried to ignore Beth as much as possible, but as soon as Beth began to unload the contents of her satchel onto the table, Melissa had had enough.

“Do you mind? Your trash is getting everywhere,” Melissa said snottily.

Beth glanced up for a moment and locked eyes with Melissa. Without breaking her gaze she withdrew her project case and slammed it down on the table, knocking the other contents already covering the surface everywhere. Hair ties, wadded up wrappers, nail polish and other junk skidded off the table, onto the floor and into Melissa’s lap.

“Jesus, you freak!” Melissa shouted, jumping from her seat, flicking Beth’s satchel contents away from her like they were hot coals.

“Problem, girls?” Mr. Weber called from across the room. “Do you both need a consult with Headmistress Ellis?”

Melissa glared at Beth, then turned and smiled for Mr. Weber. “No, sir.”

Mr. Weber watched the girls for a moment, then went back to critiquing a student’s project.

Beth grabbed up her stuff and jammed it back in her satchel.

“Don’t fuck with me, freak,” Melissa growled. “I’m really not in the mood.”

***

“Take the next left,” Reginald said, while Mr. Stone drove the mag-skiff through the busy afternoon traffic.

“You sure this is the Secondary?” Mr. Stone asked, patiently waiting for an elderly lady to cross the road before he turned.

“Yep. Face-rec confirmed the school records,” Reginald responded, looking at his tablet screen. “One Ms. Elizabeth Laughlin. Age seventeen. Orphan. Lives with a foster family a few blocks from here.”

“Plot that route also in case we don’t get to the school in time,” Stone said, finally able to turn. “School lets out at 1700 hours.”

Stone pulled the mag-skiff to the curb outside Gramercy Secondary School and cut the drive, letting the skiff settle onto the pavement. He reached past Reginald and tapped at a panel on the dashboard. “Tag-5 semi-auto, fully silenced,” he said aloud. There were a series of clicks and part of the dash dropped, extending a compact biochrome pistol. Stone grabbed it and placed it inside his jacket. “Ready?”

Reginald tapped at the panel also. “Ten inch, 100-fold edge blade, 30 gram hilt.” Two clicks and a biochrome knife appeared. “Ready, Stone.”

The two men exited the skiff and proceeded up the greenway towards the school entrance.

***

“And I saved the best for last,” Mr. Weber said, not even bothering to conceal his sarcasm. “Let’s start with Ms. Laughlin, shall we.”

Beth handed Mr. Weber her paper and opened her project case. Inside was a small chunk of biochrome, about ten centimeters square. Mr. Weber’s brow furrowed as he picked up the square.

“It’s a multi-tool,” Beth said quietly. “I couldn’t think of a single object to make, so I figured out a way to program the properties of several objects into the BC. All simple tools so it wouldn’t overload the matrix, but it could come in handy.”

Melissa gasped. “You cheating bitch!”

Beth turned on her, stunned. “What…?”

Mr. Weber ignored the interaction and set Beth’s project back in its case. He reached across the girls and opened Melissa’s. Inside was a nearly identical square of biochrome.

“I can’t believe you copied me!” Melissa screeched. “Have you been watching me or something, freak?”

“I…didn’t…,” Beth stammered. “I came up with this on my own.” She turned to Mr. Weber. “You’ve seen me sketching this in class.”

“You mean copied from my sketches!” Melissa shouted.

“Quiet! Both of you!” Mr. Weber snapped. He closed both projects and shoved them into each girl’s hands. “I want you to take those and wait up by my desk! Now!”

“But, Mr. Weber…,” Melissa started.

“NOW!” Mr. Weber shouted, causing many of the students to turn to see what was happening. “Eyes front!” They all turned away, but their attention was still focused on the commotion.

Melissa stood from the table and pushed past Mr. Weber, stomping to the front of the room and Mr. Weber’s desk.

“Mr. Weber? Please, my foster mother will be—” Beth tried, but he held up a hand stopping her instantly.

“Up at my desk now, Ms. Laughlin!” he glared

***

Heather stood before the case and smiled. There it was, months of undercover work, acting like she was some stupid spy from one of the other Kingdoms so she would get thrown in this specific facility, all of it now coming to a close.

She snatched up the case, having already disabled the less than adequate (for her) security measures and bolted from the room.

***

“Excuse me,” Reginald said as he approached the school receptionist while Mr. Stone waited outside the office door, his eyes scanning the hallway as the end of day bell sounded and students poured out of their classrooms. “Might I inquire as to the location of Ms. Elizabeth Laughlin?”

The receptionist looked up and was startled to see such a tall man connected to such a high voice. “Oh, I’m sorry, but we cannot give out student information.”

Reginald smiled brightly. “No, of course you can’t. But, she was here at school today, correct?”

The receptionist eyed Reginald warily. His smile widened. “I work with her foster father and he has to work late and wanted me to bring a message to her.”

Reginald watched the woman’s hand shift slightly towards the com unit on her desk. Before she could move more than a centimeter, Reginald had his knife out and buried into the soft underside of her chin. “Looks like it’s the hard way, Stone!” Reginald called out.

***

Shock troops on her heels and bullets whizzing past, Heather passed through the BC barbed wire like it was cobwebs and stood at the top of the wall, nothing but the Thames below her. She melted the straps of the case, changing it into a backpack, and slung it around, securing it tightly about her shoulders. The BC charge she had set exploded as timed, ripping the troopers apart and closing off the roof access. Heather leapt, her arms outstretched, body straight, and plunged head first into the frigid waters.

***

Melissa and Beth walked down the hallway towards the main office with Mr. Weber railing at them from directly behind, his face purple with rage. “Did you two think you could get away with it?” he yelled. “How stupid do you think I am? You didn’t even bother to adjust the tools. They are exactly alike!”

Melissa tried to stop and talk to Mr. Weber, but he grabbed her by the upper arm and pushed her along.

“Mr. Weber, please!” she cried. “I swear I had nothing to do with this! If anyone cheated it was her, not me!”

“Save it for the Headmistress!” Mr. Weber growled. “I’ve had about enough of you brats and your little feud!”

“Confirmation of target!” a voice shouted directly outside the main office door.

The two girls and Mr. Weber stopped, confused, and watched as Mr. Stone pulled his pistol from his jacket while Reginald stepped from the office, his bloody knife trailing bright red droplets behind him.

“Elizabeth Laughlin, step away from the others!” Stone called out. “A capture or kill order has been given! We will use deadly force!”

Mr. Weber stepped forward. “If you are police then I demand some ideni-!” He never finished the sentence as Stone silently put two bullets through his right eye. They ripped through his brain and skull, splattering the hallway with blood and grey matter.

“Oh my god!” Beth screamed and other students in the hall took notice of the confrontation.

Shouts and yells echoed down the hall as the students became aware of the blood and panicked. Stone ignored the chaos and took aim once again. Beth’s eyes widened and her bladder loosed as the pistol’s muzzle trained on her.

“Get down!” Melissa ordered.

Her legs already weak with panic and shock, Beth crumpled to the floor as bullets from Mr. Stone’s pistol punched through the empty air where she had just been.

The school security guard, finally realizing he needed to do his job, rushed Mr. Stone, tackling him about the waist.

Reginald ignored the two men grappling on the tile floor and brought his attention to Beth. Two quick strides and he towered over her, his knife poised to strike.

“Who are you?” Beth squeaked. “What do you want?”

Reginald smiled down at her. “Your head, girly. And what’s inside it. That’s all.”

Reginald grunted and shuddered, his face taking on a surprised and pained look. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell to his knees. Beth scuttled away before the tall man could collapse on her. Behind Reginald stood Melissa, the flag pole normally stationed outside the main office gripped tight in her hands like a quarter staff. A look of anger crossed her face and she dropped the pole, wiping her hands on her skirt.

“God, you’re a pain in my ass!” she shouted. “Now get the fuck up and let’s go!”

Beth didn’t question Melissa and got shakily to her feet. “What’s going on?!?” she yelled at Melissa.

Melissa looked at Mr. Stone and Reginald, then grabbed Beth, yanking her towards the front entrance. “Fuck if I know!”

Bits of wood exploded and showered the two girls as they ran through the doorway. Beth risked a glance behind her and saw Mr. Stone, gun aimed at her, smiling before the guard’s right elbow caught him across the brow and his head slammed against the tile floor.

Chapter Three

“Sir?” Corporal Stephens said, hurrying into General Nathan Fitzroy’s office. “You have to see this!”

General Fitzroy, Head of American Forces UK, glanced up from the sheet of dataplast he was reading. “You know, Corporal, for an assistant you do more interrupting than assisting.”

The Corporal ignored the comment and switched on the holo.

“-confirm this Director Gein?” the reporter asked as they both stood outside an official and ominous looking complex. “This is the first breakout in the history of this facility, isn’t that correct?”

“Like I said earlier, Valerie, I am not at liberty to comment on the situation at hand,” Mr. Gein said, pulling at his collar and looking quite uncomfortable. “This is an internal LOMSD matter and will be handled thusly.”

“But, Director Gein, there are reports that this facility isn’t strictly a detention center, but a holding facility for sensitive and quite possibly dangerous materials. Can you confirm this?” Valerie asked.

Director Gein’s eyes narrowed predatorily and the nervous bureaucrat disappeared for a moment. “You must have your facts mixed up, Valerie. This interview is concluded and I have given you as much information as I can. Thank you.” With that he stormed off.

“Well, obviously there is more going on than the LOMSD would like to discuss,” Valerie continued. “I can assure our watching public that we at the HBC will be digging deeper to bring you the truth. Valerie Adams reporting for HBC Breaking News. Back to you, Lois.”

The holo switched to an anchor woman. “Thank you Valerie. Certainly is troubling. In other news, reports are coming in from Gramercy Secondary School of a possible shoot-.”

Fitzroy switched off the holo. “Fucking hell, Heather! Which part of clandestine do you not understand?”

“Shall I call her, sir?” Corporal Stephens asked.

“You think she has a com on her right now?” the General asked annoyed. “I’m pretty sure she’ll be in contact when she wants to be in contact. In the meantime, keep monitoring all channels, official or unofficial. If there is even a hint that this might get back to us, you tell me right away. I won’t be caught with my pants down!”

***

“Please… can… we stop…running,” Beth panted. “Please… my side…”

Melissa halted and looked about, pulling Beth into an alleyway next to Jameson & Sons Fine Candies & News Shop. When sufficiently hidden by shadow, she let go of her arm and looked at Beth.

“You want to tell me what the fuck that was about?” Melissa whispered harshly. “Mr. Weber is dead because those two men were looking for you!”

Beth wouldn’t meet Melissa’s eyes. “I don’t know,” she croaked, tears streaming down her face.

Melissa stared at her hard, then her face softened slightly as she saw the large wet stain on Beth’s skirt. She took her school uniform jacket off and stepped to Beth, draping it about her waist and tying the arms in front. “Here, this should cover it.”

“Thanks,” Beth nodded. “I really don’t know what is going on.”

“Yeah, I believe you,” Melissa said, and then looked around, making sure no one passing by the alleyway heard her. “You may be a freak, but you’re a crappy liar. Come on, we’re going to my place. My aunt is off on business and we’ll have the place to ourselves. You can get cleaned up there and we can figure out what to do next.”

“Why are you helping me?” Beth asked.

“Because Americans stick together,” Melissa said.

Beth’s eyes grew wide with shock. “I’m not an American!”

“Bullshit. That multi-tool design is classic Ghost training,” Melissa grunted. “Either you’ve had the training or someone has shown you. Whichever it is, only an American with genetic control over BC can make that. Come on, we’ve got a short window before they come looking for me as well. I’m not registered, but I think they can get around that.”

***

“The bath is up the stairs,” Melissa said as she ushered Beth through the front door of the brownstone. “Third door on the left. There should be towels.”

Beth looked at her and smiled, then scrunched her face. “I’m going to need, well…”

Melissa frowned “You can grab some of my aunt’s clothes,” she latched the door behind them, activated the security system and turned towards a set of double doors on her right. “Bedroom’s next to the bath. I’m going to check the holo and see if anything has been mentioned.” She opened a hallway closet and pulled two satchels from a hook on the door.

“Are you going somewhere?” Beth asked, eyeing the satchels.

Melissa laughed. “We’re both going somewhere. I don’t know what your deal is, but if you’re an American then that means I have a duty to help and protect you.”

“Why’s that?” Beth asked.

“Are you dense?” Melissa responded harshly. “Because I’m a fucking American also! You really aren’t getting what’s going on, are you, freak?”

“Please don’t call me that,” Beth whispered.

Melissa sighed. “You go upstairs. I’m going to get some supplies and I’ll meet you up there. We probably have ten, maybe fifteen minutes until Special Branch comes knocking. Or the LOMSD.”

Beth took in a sharp breath. “The League? Why would the League want me?”

“Just get upstairs. We’ll have plenty of time to talk on the run.”

“The run?!? But, where-?”

“Fucking get upstairs and get changed for Christ’s sake!”

Beth shut up and dashed up the stairs. Melissa shook her head and walked back to the kitchen.

***

“No, sir,” Director Gein said over his com, his fingers nervously tapping on his desk. “No, we followed every security protocol. She’s obviously a Ghost, sir. There was no way to detect—”

Gein’s face grew redder and redder as he listened to the voice on the other end of the com.

“I understand that, sir, but like I said… Right, of course, sir. Yes, I’ll be expecting you.”

Gein disconnected the com and sat staring at his office wall.

“Fucking bollocks!” he yelled, slamming his fist down.

***

Heather burst into the kitchen. “Get your shit in a sock! We need to be packed and gone like right now!” she shouted at Melissa. “And what’s with the sec-sys being activated in the middle of the day?”

“Where the hell have you been?” Melissa yelled. “Do you know I almost got killed today?!?”

“Join the fucking club,” Heather said grabbing one of the packs from Melissa. She felt the weight of the supplies and looked inside. “What the hell? Are you psychic now? What’s this about?”

Melissa frowned and pointed at the holocast.

Heather turned her focus on the image of the news woman, once again Valerie Adams, standing outside Gramercy Secondary School.

“Authorities have released this holo footage of the vicious attacks on a teacher and the school receptionist,” Valerie reported. The picture changed to the scene in the hallway, but instead of Mr. Stone firing the pistol, it showed Beth turning on Mr. Weber and executing the teacher. The scene switched to the main office, showing Beth bursting in and stabbing Mrs. Drover repeatedly in the throat and face then running from the office.

“We now have Mr. Able Stone of the LOM Security Division here to give us some insight into this unthinkable act,” the reporter said as Mr. Stone stepped into the image. “Thank you for speaking with us, Mr. Stone.”

“Of course, Valerie,” Mr. Stone said, his face a mask of serious concern. “We know that information is the key to keeping everyone from panicking and jumping to conclusions.”

“Now, Mr. Stone, early reports are calling this an act by a troubled teen connected with terrorists, which is why Special Branch isn’t involved,” Valerie began. “And, if this is part of something bigger than just a London incident, why is the LOMSD here and not the Americans?”

“Well, Valerie, we aren’t sure how deep this goes,” Mr. Stone said. “And, unfortunately, the suspect in question may be an unregistered American, which means the Americans have no choice but to let the LOMSD handle the investigation.” He turned and faced the camera. “After a quick examination of the school’s security holo and speaking to witnesses, we have concluded that this horrible act was the fault of a poor girl addicted to scabs. How that ties into her being an American, we are not sure.”

“Oh my,” Valerie responded. “Have you determined precisely what scabs?”

“We believe it to be SensLo,” Stone answered. “That would explain the sudden violence. The girl probably thought she was in her favorite holocast, you know how these kids like the violence, and snapped. It goes to show the honest, homegrown dangers we face everyday.”

“I am sure our viewers would like to help, Mr. Stone,” Valerie offered. “What can they do if they spot this girl?”

“Thank you, Valerie.” Mr. Stone smiled. “As I have instructed the local authorities, if you see this young woman, Elizabeth Laughlin, please don’t approach her. Contact the LOMSD hotline and give her location. We wouldn’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stone.” Valerie turned to face the holocam. “That was Mr. Able Stone of the LOM Security Division. The LOMSD hotline contact info is available for your grasp. Just reach out with your catcher and it will be logged. I advise you do this now. It’s always better to be safe than sorry. This is-.”

Heather switched off the holocast. “Want to explain what that has to do with you? Who the fuck is Elizabeth Laughlin? An unregistered American? We don’t need that shit around us! Keeping us hidden has been hard enough!”

“Are you sure your aunt won’t mind me borrowing her clothes?” Beth asked as she walked into the kitchen. “She must keep in shape. These almost didn’t fit. Oh, um, hello.”

Heather looked from Beth to Melissa and back. “I really don’t have time for this, Mel! What the fuck is going on? And why is she wearing my favorite fucking jeans?!?”

Proximity alarms blared through the house and Heather grabbed both girls, shoving them into the hallway. “Damn!”

***

“Mr. Stone wants them alive!” a trooper called out to the dozen or so others ready to storm Heather and Melissa’s brownstone.

“Clear!” one yelled ducking away from the front door as it exploded inward in a mass of biochrome and resin.

***

“Fuck! They’re here!” Melissa and Heather yelled in unison as the house shook from simultaneous explosions in the front and back.

“We’ll talk on the go! Upstairs both of you!” Heather shouted, tossing each of the girls a satchel. “I’ll buy us some time! There’s the mag-skiff in the basement! Get in and go! If I don’t catch up to you in the alley in one minute you take off! Find Billy, he’ll get you to safety!”

Melissa turned on her aunt, fury in her eyes. “Billy? That fucking scabhead wouldn’t know safety if it fucked him in the ass!”

“NOT THE TIME, MEL!” Heather roared, shoving the girls further up the stairs. “GO!”

Heather watched the two girls run upstairs as four LOMSD troopers came at her through the smoke and debris. Before they even had to time to call out, Heather melted the BC doorknob of the closet, splitting it into four equal parts. She flung the changing metal towards the troopers. She didn’t even wait to see the results, confident the biochrome would do as she had told it to. It did and the troopers were dead before they hit the ground, their heads sliced open by micron thin blades.

Heather stalked towards the back of the house, gathering up BC from lamps, doorknobs, hinges as she went. “This is my house, motherfuckers!”

***

Beth screamed and clamped her hands over her ears as the sound of automatic rifle fire and ricochets boomed from below and shook the bathroom the girls had ducked into.

“Shut it, freak!” Melissa snapped, placing a hand against the tile of the shower. It instantly shimmered, then dissolved into a pool of biochrome. Melissa grabbed Beth and shoved her into the small room that was revealed. “In there now!”

Melissa stepped over the threshold, bent and put her hand to the pooled BC. Instantly the biochrome responded and the wall replaced itself, the illusion of a tiled shower again complete.

“Where are we?” Beth asked, blinking as a small halogen flickered to life. “How did you do that?”

“The BC is programmed to my family’s genetics,” Melissa replied. “I wish I could do more, but I only get to work that patch.” She knelt on the floor of the tiny room and placed her hand against a small square of BC. “And this patch.”

The surface rippled, and then gave way, sending them plummeting into the dark below.

***

The cries of the troopers echoed from the brownstone and out into the city street. Those troopers who hadn’t rushed the building paused, unsure whether to push forward or retreat, until the commanding officer started barking orders, berating them all for their cowardice.

***

The girls landed hard three stories below the bathroom, but safety netting kept them from serious injury. They sprinted a few hundred meters down a damp, musty tunnel, straight to a barely stable brick wall. Melissa tapped at a hidden security pad and the wall pulled away, revealing a small, compact mag-skiff tucked away inside.

“Do you even have your license?” Beth asked as she strapped into the passenger seat. Melissa started up the mag-drive and pulled it from the underground garage, a door sliding away to reveal a narrow alleyway beyond.

“Fuck a license!” Melissa laughed. “We’re not driving to the bloody market!” Melissa watched Beth for a moment. “You really don’t know what’s going on at all, huh?”

“No,” Beth said quietly. “I woke up this morning hating my life as usual, but never wanting any of this. I don’t want to be an American.”

“Oh, really? Could have fooled me, the way you always seem to have some great insight into our history or current place in today’s socio-political environment. Especially with BC.”

“Yeah,” Beth said. “I don’t know why. Stuff just comes to me. It’s like I’m not in control of my own life sometimes. Well, most of the time…”

The two girls cringed as the brownstone three hundred meters behind them erupted in a mass of flame.

“I get what you mean,” Melissa shouted, slamming down the accelerator.

“What about your aunt?” Beth asked.

Melissa looked in the rearview mirror and grinned. Reaching up she pulled open the small sunroof. “Oh, she can take care of herself.”

Beth looked behind her and her jaw dropped as she watched Heather sprint inhumanly fast towards the back of the skiff, then leap on top, twist and slide through the sunroof, landing in the back seat.

“Wow,” Beth said.

“You can applaud later,” Heather joked. “We have an appointment in Sin Circle.”

Melissa started to protest, but Heather held up her finger. “Uh-uh. I don’t want to fucking hear it. Billy may be a scabhead, but he’s got ways to get us out of London. That’s what we need right now.”

Melissa scrunched up her face in an angry pout and focused on the road.

“Sin Circle? Is that safe?’ Beth asked.

“Is she always this dense?” Heather asked, leaning back in her seat and popping open a protein drink she grabbed from one of the satchels.

“So far, yes,” Melissa responded, reaching back and snatching the drink from Heather and taking it for herself.

“Bitch,” Heather grinned, grabbing another and tossing it to Beth before opening her own.

***

Mr. Stone ignored the greetings from the LOMSD troopers and pushed into the living room of the small, dirty flat. A skinny, middle aged woman, obviously on speaking terms with cheap brandy, sat on the couch smoking a vapor stick and looking bored by all the commotion.

“Ms. Liecaster is not being very cooperative, Mr. Stone,” Reginald said, glancing around at the troopers.

“Everyone out,” Mr. Stone said quietly, but firmly, his eyes never leaving the woman’s face. Even with the low tone, all troopers turned and left the flat, the door clicking ominously behind them. “How long has she been fostered here?”

“I don’t know,” Ms. Liecaster said lazily. “Two or three months. Fuck if I care.”

Mr. Stone grinned and sat down next to her. Moments went by and he said nothing. Ms. Liecaster finally looked over at him then Reginald and back to Mr. Stone. Lightning fast Mr. Stone’s elbow smashed into Ms. Liecaster’s nose, the crunch echoing off the mildewed walls of the flat.

“You broke my fucking nose!” she gurgled around the blood flowing down her throat.

Reginald reached out, pulled the woman from the couch and slammed her face into the stained carpet. He yanked back roughly on her hair and Mr. Stone, still seated, leaned down close.

“Do you fucking care now?” Mr. Stone asked.

“You broke my fucking nose!” Ms. Liecaster screamed again.

“Reginald, if you please.”

“My pleasure, Mr. Stone,” Reginald grinned, pushing the woman’s head away and grabbing her left arm by the wrist while placing his other hand on her shoulder.

“One last time, Ms. Liecaster,” Mr. Stone said, getting from the couch and kneeling close to her face. “Do you fucking care now?”

“Fuck you!” she spat.

Reginald twisted her wrist and pushed down hard with his other hand, separating her shoulder instantly. Ms. Liecaster screamed in agony.

“Okay! Okay! I fucking care!” she called out. “Please!”

Mr. Stone nodded and Reginald let go of Ms. Liecaster. The woman rolled onto her back and reached for her injured arm.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Mr. Stone said. “You don’t touch that arm until we are done talking or I have Reginald rip it all the way out of the socket.”

Reginald smiled. Ms. Liecaster froze.

Activating the holo disc, Reginald leaned down. “Do you know this boy?”

Ms. Liecaster watched the scene play out on the holo disc and Mr. Stone and Reginald could see the lies she was trying to formulate flitter across her face, but thought better of as her shoulder pulsed with pain. “Yeah, I seen him,” she gasped. “He come around here once. Always thought he was on the scabs the way he looked.”

“How so?” Mr. Stone asked.

“Didn’t seem to know where he was. A little out of it, like he didn’t know why he was here.”

“But Beth knew him from school?” Mr. Stone asked.

“I don’t know,” Ms. Liecaster said. “Beth never talked about him. Acted like she didn’t know who I was talking about after he left.”

“That all you know?” Mr. Stone asked.

“Yes, that’s all I know,” she responded, spitting blood onto the carpet. “You gonna call an ambulance for my shoulder?”

Mr. Stone looked at Reginald for confirmation. “She isn’t lying, Stone,” Reginald said. Mr. Stone nodded and Reginald raised his foot then stomped full force on Ms. Liecaster’s face. The woman grunted in pain and Reginald stomped one more time before she was still.

“Two stomper, Reggie?” Mr. Stone asked. “You losing your touch?”

“It’s been a long day, Mr. Stone,” Reginald apologized.

“That it has.”

The two men left the flat quickly.

“She fell,” Mr. Stone said to one of the troopers. “It was a bad fall. You’ll need a bag.”

The trooper nodded and entered the flat, as another ran up to Mr. Stone.

“Let me guess,” Mr. Stone said, raising his hand and cutting off the trooper before he could speak. “The girls got away again.”

“Yes, Mr. Stone,” the trooper said reluctantly. “They had help though, sir. Some Ghost blew up the place.”

“A Ghost?” Reginald asked.

“Please tell me you have holo,” Mr. Stone said menacingly.

The trooper nodded and activated a disc in his palm. Mr. Stone and Reginald watched as Heather systematically tore apart each trooper that came at her.

“She’s quite skilled,” Reginald remarked.

“Yes, Reggie, she is,” Mr. Stone responded. “I believe we need to head back to station and re-group. There’s more going on here than we know.”

Chapter Four

General Fitzroy tossed the dataplast report across the room and punched his desk again and again and again until the wood top began to crack.

“Feel better, sir?” Corporal Stephens asked. “I’m sure your desk had it coming.”

“Fuck off, Stephens.”

“Yes, sir.”

Fitzroy stood up and walked to the bay window overlooking the Suffolk American Military and Intelligence Complex. He watched American troops training in the staging field, newly called up rookies, just kids really, getting the hang of their Shock suits and weaponry. Veteran troopers milled about, offering them pointers, sparring, giving the rookies shit when needed. Fitzroy bent down and retrieved the report.

“Ghosts are one thing,” Fitzroy said. “We have plenty of those off the books. That’s the fucking point of Ghosts. But a Vessel? First I’ve heard of it.”

“Me too, sir,” Stephens responded. “You want me to get Colonel Masterson, sir? The report indicates he signed off on the project.”

“No, Corporal, that isn’t necessary.”

Stephens cocked his head for a moment, then nodded. “Sir, I have Prime Minister Lane on the com. Shall I put her through?”

“Been waiting for this call,” Fitzroy sighed. “Yeah, put her through.” He walked slowly back to his desk.

“Yes, sir. The PM is on channel 135.”

“Thank you, Corporal. Dismissed.”

The Corporal saluted, nodded, turned about face and left the office. General Fitzroy took a deep breath and activated his com. “Madame Prime Minister, I am glad you called. I’ve been going over the Gramercy report and-…”

“I called you General and I need you to listen,” Prime Minister Lane said, her voice harsh and abrupt. “I don’t know what you Americans are playing at, but an act of deceit like this will not be tolerated! You are to order all of your community embedded Family Combat Units back to your base and remain there until the King has had a chance to consult with Parliament and the League of Monarchies! Do not think this will go unpunished!”

The General played the words over in his head several times before responding. “I’m sorry, Madame Prime Minister, but I don’t have a good goddamn idea what you are talking about,” he said, pressing the summons button for Corporal Stephens. “I can assure you that I did not have knowledge of an unregistered American. In fact, I am beginning to think the LOMSD has their facts wrong and this entire—”

“Do not lecture me on who has their facts wrong and who doesn’t, General!” Prime Minister Lane shouted. “Until this matter is cleared up, I expect, and the King expects, full cooperation. There is an LOMSD team being dispatched to your base. They will be allowed access to any and all information they deem necessary to their investigation. Any resistance from you, General, could mean the revocation of your Sanctuary status by the King and the expulsion of all Americans from the United Kingdom! Am I clear?”

Corporal Stephens burst into the office, waving frantically.

“I understand, Prime Minister,” General Fitzroy answered through gritted teeth. He placed the com on mute. “What, Corporal?!?”

“Sir, I have reports of Family Combat Units being found executed in their homes!” Stephens exclaimed. “All Units had special data Techs among them, sir.”

The General activated his com once again. “I am sorry about that, Prime Minister, but new developments have come to light. Are you aware that several Family Units tasked with data Techs have been reported executed?”

There was silence on the other end for a moment. “I wasn’t aware of that, General. I am sorry for the losses.”

The General narrowed his eyes. “Sorry for the losses? Prime Minister Lane, I believe you are keeping something from me. Now, I will welcome the LOMSD investigators when they get here. And I will make sure they are assisted within reason.”

“General Fitzroy!” the Prime Minister shouted. “You will comply with my order or there will be serious, permanent consequences!”

The General laughed. “I agree with you there, Prime Minister, but I warn you not to start something you cannot finish. I certainly hope your office hasn’t had anything to do with the attacks on American FCUs. That would be unfortunate. Good day, Prime Minister.” He disconnected the com. “Now I want to speak to Colonel Masterson! Get his Ghost ass in here!”

***

Colonel Richard “Blue” Masterson watched the rookies struggle with the BC, their jack points still not used to full integration. The skin around the points was raw and pink and many of the rookies dropped their Shock suits before even getting the first point to connect.

“Come on you fucking wimps!” he shouted. “Everyone one of you is a disgrace to the American name! We invented biochrome! We invented jack points! We are born to do this! You think your poor mothers endured months of fetal genetic manipulation so you can act like bigger pussies than the ones you came out of? FUCK NO! Now fucking connect and blow some goddamn shit up!”

“But, sir, it hurts!” one of the rookies called out.

“Who fucking said that?” Blue screamed. “Which one of you wasted eggs had the mother fucking balls to say that?”

No one responded.

“That’s what I fucking thought! Yes, it’s going to fucking hurt! In fact, it’ll hurt every time you connect with your Shock suit. This is adaptable armor that responds to your genetic code and is controlled by drilling tiny, little fucking spikes into those bloody holes all over your body! Does any part of that process sound like it won’t fucking hurt? Now, the next mother fucking shitbag that complains will have a jack point inserted into their ass by me personally! Do you under-fucking-stand?”

“SIR, YES SIR!” the rookies yelled, doubling their efforts.

“Colonel Masterson?” Corporal Stephens’s voice called over his com. “General Fitzroy would like to see you ASAP.”

Masterson growled, then stared down each rookie until they couldn’t keep eye contact. “I’ll be right up,” he finally responded. “You fucking pussies better be suited up and already blasting shit to fucking kingdom come by the time I get back! If any one of you cannot hit a target at fifty yards then you all will fucking sleep in those things! Do you understand?”

“SIR, YES SIR!”

***

Mr. Stone let the water run over him, his forehead pressed against the slick tile.

“Agent Stone?” a voice called.

Stone refused to respond.

“Agent Stone? Are you in here?”

What kind of fucking question is that? he thought. Every holocam in this fucking shower is watching me right now.

“Agent Stone, if you are in here please respond,” the voice said, louder, closer that time.

Mr. Stone sighed, reached out and shut the water off. “What?”

A young man stepped to the shower room door and peered through the steam. “I’ve been instructed to escort you to conference room thirteen. You have a new assignment and will be briefed in five minutes.”

“Can I fucking put a towel on?” Stone growled, pushing past the man and stepping to his locker.

“Well, of course,” the young man stammered. “I mean, you have time to get dressed.”

Stone fixed a cold gaze on the man. “I thought you said I had five minutes. Which is it? Time to get dressed or five minutes? You should be exact when giving a time frame.”

The young man blinked repeatedly, obviously confused. Mr. Stone waved him off.

“Never mind,” he said. “Tell them I’ll be right there.”

“But, sir, I was instructed—”

“—to escort me. Yeah, I heard you. I don’t need an escort. I know where conference room thirteen is.”

The young man began to protest, but before he could get a word out Mr. Stone was in his face, his left hand clamped on the man’s crotch.

“You want to keep these?” Stone snarled. “Or do you want to be known as Agent Eunuch?”

The young man swallowed, but didn’t answer. Stone let go of the man’s balls and pulled a pair of boxers from his locker, slipped them on and grabbed his uniform. “I’ll be right there.”

The young man nodded, turned and fled the locker room.

***

Reginald poured himself a glass of water from one of the many pitchers on the conference table before pulling up a chair. He glanced at the three men at the far end of the table. He didn’t know those men and didn’t want to. The man directly across from him, however, he did know.

“Thank you for joining us, Reginald,” Director Gein said. “Mr. Stone should be… Ah, here he is now. Hope it wasn’t a bother, Stone.”

“Fuck you, Gein, get to the point,” Mr. Stone said after taking a seat next to Reginald. “What’s the assignment?”

Director Gein smiled, despite Stone’s insubordination. “LOMSD holding center was breached.”

“Yep, heard about that,” Stone said.

“Right,” Gein continued. “Fifteen guards were brutally murdered. All holos have been analyzed, but they didn’t show us anything that the few survivors hadn’t already confirmed.”

“So, any idea who it was?”

“Not your concern, Agent,” one of the mystery men said, an older man with close cropped hair and dark brown eyes.

“What he means, Stone, is that the identity of the target is unimportant,” Gein said before Mr. Stone could respond. “Tracking this person down is all that matters.”

“Do I get to know if it’s a man or woman? Age? Description?”

A holo flickered to life in the center of the table and Heather Walton’s image floated before Stone’s face.

“Pretty,” he said flatly, keeping the fact that he recognized Heather to himself.

“You don’t have a problem apprehending a woman, do you Agent?” one of the other mystery men asked, this one much younger and with a continental accent that seemed all over the place to Stone’s ears.

“Is he fucking kidding me?” Mr. Stone asked Gein rhetorically.

“No, Mr. Stone doesn’t have a problem apprehending or neutralizing a woman,” Gein said, becoming irritated himself.

“No neutralization,” the third mystery man insisted. A man similar to Stone: plain in every way. “We need this target alive. Your job is capture only.”

Stone fixed his gaze on Director Gein. “Any idea where I start?”

Gein tossed a holo disc at Stone. The agent caught it easily.

“You can study that on your way to the American base. You’ll be going under the guise of investigating the Gramercy incident, but that is a smoke screen. You’re key objective is to find information on Ms. Walton,” Gein said as the conference room door opened. “Agent Turner here will be your driver and assistant. Along with Reginald, of course.”

Mr. Stone turned in his seat to see the young man that had been sent to retrieve him from the shower.

“He’ll be dead before sunrise,” Stone said. “Get me someone a little less green.”

Reginald snickered lightly.

Director Gein leaned forward. “Do you think this is all we are dealing with right now, Stone?” Gein said. “We are executing a shift of power the world hasn’t seen since the Brimstone wars, as you are well aware. All experienced agents are occupied at the moment. Agent Turner is the best you’re gonna get. If that won’t work, Stone, we can put you back on regular detail and then we’ll see where you stand when what is going to happen happens.”

“Fine,” Mr. Stone said, getting up from the table and walking past Turner, right out the door, Reginald directly behind him. “I’m not doing the paperwork when he eats BC.”

The men watched Agent Turner scramble after Stone, waiting to speak until the door was closed.

“Can he handle the mission?” Mr. Brown Eyes asked.

“Yes, of course,” Gein responded. “He is probably our best agent.”

“Well, your best was just beaten by two kids and a security guard,” Mr. Plain said. “Hardly inspires confidence.”

“As long as you’re telling me everything,” Director Gein said. “Then Stone will be fine.”

The three men remained silent.

“That is everything, right?” Gein insisted.

“You have been told all you need to know, Mr. Gein,” Mr. Continental said. “Thank you. You may leave.”

Gein stared into the hard faces of the three men, smiled and nodded. “Of course, sirs. I will keep you apprised of the situation as I gain more information.”

“We know you will,” Mr. Brown Eyes said. “Oh, and Director?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Try to stay off the holos if you can. It doesn’t reflect well on your status with us. We prefer to stay a little lower profile.”

“Considering what is about to happen, I am surprised low profile is in your vocabulary.”

“Yes, well, until then can you stay off the holos?”

Director Gein nodded again and left the conference room, activating his com as he went. “Get me stats now!” he barked. “I want progress reports on every single mission in play!”

Chapter Five

“Isn’t it going to be getting dark soon?” Beth asked as they passed the derelict flats and rundown buildings of Sin Circle. She watched three scabheads fighting over what looked like an arm, but she knew that couldn’t be right. “I’ve always been told never to be here after dark. That’s when people go missing.”

“Everyone in this fucking hellhole has gone missing,” Heather said from the back seat. “Sin Circle is where people go to get lost, to disappear and walk away from the lives they had before.”

“Fucking whatever,” Melissa growled.

“You got something to add, niece of mine?” Heather asked.

“Just that leaving those who love and depend on you isn’t disappearing,” Melissa almost snarled. “It’s fucking cowardice and every single last one of these scabheads, whores and pimps should be wiped off the face of the planet.”

“Hmmm,” Heather responded, but let it drop.

Beth looked at Melissa, then back at Heather, who just shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“Really,” Beth began. “I don’t think we should be here.”

Melissa glared at Beth. “What? Are you going to cry? I can’t even call you freak anymore without feeling sorry for you.”

“Then don’t call me freak,” Beth said quietly.

“See!” Melissa nearly shouted. “You’re breaking my fucking heart here! Get some motherfucking backbone, girl! Grow a pair below for fuck’s sake!”

“Let her be, Mel,” Heather said leaning forward and pointing towards a pub on their right before Melissa could respond. “Pull over. Pretty sure he’s in there.”

“Can I stay in the skiff?” Melissa asked obstinately.

“No, you can’t stay in the fucking skiff!” Heather snapped. “Now who’s being a pussy?”

Melissa grimaced, pulled the skiff over and whipped her door open. “Let’s get this over with then!”

“Is there something I should know?” Beth asked Heather as she got out.

Beth watched Heather take a quick scan of the street: couple of scabheads trying to turn tricks for a fix, three legitimate whores trying to run the scabheads off their corner and a lone grower standing by a small alley, his arms and head twitching, probably from a fresh batch of scabs coming in.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Heather responded to Beth as she hurried the girl inside the pub.

***

If the pub looked bad from the outside, it looked a million times worse on the inside.

“Would it be too much for the asshole to blow rich guys uptown?” Melissa said as she walked to the bar and took a seat.

“Hey!” the bartender shouted. “No minors!”

“Fuck you, scuzz!” Melissa shouted.

Heads turned from darkened corners and Heather clamped her hand down on Melissa’s shoulder. “Cool it, little girl or I’ll slap the smug right out of you.” She turned to the bartender and gave him a flirtatious smile. “Sorry. I’m her aunt. We’re just looking for someone.”

“You her aunt too?” the bartender sneered at Beth.

“Yep,” Heather answered sliding a credit chit across the bar. “And neither of them were ever here.”

The bartender snatched up the chit and slapped it on the scanner. When it beeped he smiled brightly, revealing a less than perfect set of teeth. “Nope, never seen them.”

Heather set another chit on the bar. “You know if Billy Brenton is here tonight?”

The bright smile fell off the bartender’s face immediately. “That cock sucking scabhead is here every night.” Heather raised her eyebrows and the bartender nodded towards the men’s room. She slid the second chit to the man and he snatched it up right away, not even bothering to scan its amount. “I don’t want no trouble. You need to rough him up, or worse, do it outside.”

“Don’t worry,” Heather grinned. “We’re family.” She looked at Melissa and Beth. “You two stay here.”

“Hey!” the bartender grunted. “I ain’t no babysitter!”

Melissa’s hand whipped out lightning fast and grabbed the man by the ear, yanking his head down to the bar. “Do I look like I need a fucking babysitter?!?”

Heather slapped her upside the head, making her let go. “Be nice!” Heather hissed.

“I’ll watch her,” Beth said making both Melissa and Heather chuckle.

“How about a pint for each, eh?” Heather said. “That should keep ‘em out of your hair.”

The bartender rubbed at his ear and poured two pints of bitter, slamming them down in front of the girls, nearly splashing ale all over Melissa.

“Just try to get along,” Heather sighed.

***

The stench hit her hard and Heather actually gasped from the lack of clean air. “You in here, Billy?” Heather announced as she walked into the men’s room. A slight scuffle and shift from the far stall told her where to go and no sooner had she started walking towards it than a man came bursting out, zipping his fly.

“Hey,” he stammered. “I don’t want any trouble.”

Heather nodded towards the door. “Then get the fuck out.”

The man smiled slightly and bolted. Heather waited for the other occupant of the stall to come out. “I know you’re in there, Billy. Get your scabby ass out here.”

“Um, hey Heather,” Billy Brenton said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he left the stall. “Wasn’t expecting you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Heather snarled. “I don’t need your bullshit. We’ve got a serious situation going on, which I’m sure you aren’t aware of.”

“Rogue Americans and mystery Ghosts?” Billy asked, stepping to the sink and turning the tap on. Liquid barely recognizable as water flowed in spurts and sprays while Billy washed his hands then took a swig directly from the faucet, swishing then spitting it back in the basin. “I’m not that far gone.”

“Mystery Ghosts?” Heather asked.

Billy leaned back against the sink and activated a vapor stick, taking a long drag. “Or should I say, mystery Ghost?” he laughed. “Not so much a mystery since I’m looking at her right now.”

Heather glared.

“Okay, I know a guy that knows a guy at the Suffolk base. Your name came up and he came to see me.”

“Came to see you? I’m sure he did.”

***

Melissa and Beth watched the man hurry from the men’s room and then out the front door. Melissa just shook her head and took another sip of her ale. The grower Beth had seen outside stepped through the closing door and looked around.

The bartender gave him a weak smile and pretended to busy himself at the far end of the bar as the grower sat down next to Beth. “You girls lookin’ for some fun?” the grower asked, glancing nervously around the pub.

Beth looked up and nearly choked on her bitter. The man sitting next to her was covered from head to toe in rotting rags, what skin was exposed was marked by long, angry looking scabs.

“We’re fine, thank you,” Melissa grunted from the other side of Beth.

“Sure you are, sweetie, sure you are,” the man smiled, revealing a green-black, toothless mouth. “You’ll be more fine once you’ve fixed. What you looking for?” The man extended his right arm and pushed up the sleeve revealing long lines of fresh red scabs. “I got’s the classic, the big H on this arm.” He did the same with his left arm, shoving it under Beth’s nose. “But, you probably like the SensLo. Your generation is all about the party fun. It’s all true grown right on my body, none of that cheap, accelerated crap others get grafted on.”

“Buddy, you had better fuck off,” Melissa snarled.

“Come on, sweetie, we’re all friends in Sin Circle,” the man said, his smile faltering. He leaned his head to the right, exposing the patchwork of scabs on his neck. “Of course, if you really want to roll, maybe a taste of Slam will do ya right.” He peeled a pink orange scab from his neck and extended it to Melissa. “Maybe you two fine girls come back to my place and try it out? I can show you how to really rock the scabs.”

The grower grinned and tossed the peeled bit of dried flesh into his mouth, his whole body shuddering. Beth started to gag, the back of her hand going to her mouth. Melissa stood up and slammed her pint glass into the back of the grower’s head.

“I said fuck off!” she cried.

“Hey!” the bartender shouted. “That’s enough of that!” He pulled a pint and slid it to the grower. “Go fucking sit in the corner, Shift, and leave these girls alone!”

Shift the grower snatched up the pint and scurried off to the darkest corner in the pub.

Melissa sat down. “Give me another.” The bartender glared at her and Melissa slammed a chit on the pub. “Give us each another and more when we ask. And do me a favor. Point that ugly ass face of yours somewhere else!”

The bartender thought for a moment, but greed won out and he snatched up the chit, pulling two more pints.

***

“I spotted ‘em,” Shift whispered into his com from the corner of the pub. “Usual payment, same account. Don’t short me this time.”

“Of course not,” Mr. Stone responded over the com. “You’ll have the chits in a second. Which one do you have?”

“They’re both here,” Shift said, looking over at Melissa and Beth. “Both the girls you’re looking for. And…”

“And what, Shift?” Mr. Stone growled over the com. “Don’t play with me or you’ll be singing soprano in you’re church choir.”

“I don’t go to church,” Shift answered.

“Just tell me what you know or I cut your fucking balls off!”

“Right. No need to get angry, Mr. Stone. I just want to make sure I’m compensated for the extra information.” Shift waited for a moment.

“Yes,” Mr. Stone finally answered. “You’ll be compensated.”

“Good. Good,” Shift grinned. “I think I got that Ghost that’s been all over the holos.”

“Is she there in front of you?” Mr. Stone asked. “Send me a holo.”

“No, Francis the bartender slipped me a note with my pint sayin’ she’s in the crapper rousting one of the cock gobblers that works the place,” Shift answered.

“Which cock gobbler?” Mr. Stone asked pointedly.

“Billy Brenton. Local scabhead. He’s in here all the time tryin’ to get chits for a fix.”

“Shift, I need you to listen closely,” Mr. Stone said, his voice low and slow. “I need you to make sure you keep those girls, that Ghost and the cock gobbling scabhead there. They cannot leave before I get there. Do you understand, Shift?”

Shift thought for a moment. He glanced at Melissa and realized she’d turned on her stool and had been watching him, for how long he couldn’t be certain. “Um, that may cost you extra.”

“Don’t worry about payment, Shift,” Mr. Stone said, a deadly smile in his voice. “You’ll be paid what you’re worth.”

***

“She’s out there right now?” Billy asked, his smug smile slipping. “You brought her here?”

“Where else are we going to go, Billy?” Heather snapped. “My cover is blown and she was attacked at school. I can’t take her to the base without all kinds of repercussions. Plus, I have this fucking girl that the LOMSD wants dead and I have no idea why! Trust me, I’d like to be somewhere else, but I need your skills to get us all out of the city until I can figure out what is going on.”

Billy chewed on his lower lip until it began to bleed.

“Jesus, Billy!” Heather said, stepping forward and wiping the blood away with her sleeve. “Don’t you feel that?”

“The whole point is not to feel, Heather,” Billy laughed, but it sounded flat and fake to both their ears.

***

“Who do we have in Sin Circle?” Mr. Stone asked Reginald.

“There’s always an HAV with at least two Shock troops and six to twelve regulars on stand by,” Agent Turner answered from behind the wheel of the mag-skiff. “They’d be ready in less than a minute if called.”

“I didn’t ask you,” Mr. Stone grunted. “Reginald?”

“There’s always an HAV with at least two Shock troops and six to twelve regulars on stand by,” Reginald parroted from the back seat. “They’d be ready in less than a minute if called.”

Mr. Stone smiled. “Thank you, Reginald.”

“Of course, Mr. Stone.”

“American Unit or Special Branch?” Mr. Stone asked.

“LOMSD, Mr. Stone,” Agent Turner answered cautiously. “Sin Circle is a hot spot for the trafficking of sensitive information and we must be ready to act when needed.”

Mr. Stone turned in the passenger seat and appraised Turner. “You ever work Sin Circle?”

“It was my second assignment once I became an agent,” Turner answered proudly. “Stopped three sex slave trafficking rings and plugged a major information leak.”

“Well, Reginald, I think Agent Turner has more to offer than first thought,” Mr. Stone said. “Maybe he should take point?”

“That sounds like a very good idea, Mr. Stone,” Reginald grinned.

“Point? But, we’re to go to the American base!” Agent Turner exclaimed. “That was a direct order!”

“We’re taking a bit of a detour. It’s really part of the same mission,” Mr. Stone grinned. “You don’t have a problem with that do you, Turner?”

Reginald leaned in close to Agent Turner’s ear. “Right, Agent Turner? You don’t have a problem with that?” he said menacingly.

“No. No problem,” Agent Turner said, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

***

Brian Lisbon hated being a Ghost. He knew it was just cowardice on his part, but from the moment he had been activated, he had lived in a state of anxiety. It was that anxiety that kept him from getting an assignment. The American brass wouldn’t even contact him anymore. Every communiqué he put out there was ignored. His existence was relegated to a constant feeling of inadequacy.

So, Brian found himself alone in Hailey Park in the middle of the night. He liked the park, it was close to the river, had some nice walking paths and near a café he liked to sit at and people watch. But, Brian couldn’t remember ever seeing any people in the park and the harder he concentrated the more confused he became. He tried to mentally backtrack how he got to the park, how he ever got to the park and he couldn’t even picture the route. All he knew was the grass and the river and the way the lamps reflected off the water. Brian truly questioned his sanity.

He never noticed the footfalls behind him. And when he felt the prick and heard the hiss of the injector he found himself conflicted. Conflicted over the danger he knew he was in and the relief he felt as the last bit of consciousness slipped away, knowing that if he wasn’t killed, he was at least going to be able to rest.

***

“Time to go,” Heather said tapping Melissa and Beth on the shoulders as she passed.

Melissa stood up, then froze as Billy came out of the men’s room.

“Hey, Mel,” Billy said quietly.

Melissa stared at him for a moment then turned on Heather. “Activate me,” she snarled.

Heather rolled her eyes. “No, Mel, I’m not going to activate you just so you can kill Billy.”

Melissa picked up her pint glass and flung it towards Billy’s head. The man easily dodged it, letting the glass shatter behind him on the men’s room door.

“I’m going to fucking kill him anyway!” Melissa screamed.

“It wasn’t my fault, Mel,” Billy said moving towards her.

“Don’t you fucking dare, you mother fucking scabhead junkie piece of shit!” Melissa yelled. “Don’t fucking talk to me!”

She stomped past Heather and Beth towards the door, but was immediately blocked by Shift.

“Hey now, where you going, pretty thing?” Shift said. “What’s the hurry? The man just wants to talk.”

Melissa took a couple steps back, more from the smell than from what Shift said.

“Leave her alone, Shift,” Billy said. “Let her leave if she wants.”

“Well, Billy, as much as I’d like to accommodate one of my best customers,” Shift said as Billy looked away in shame. “I think the girl should stay for a bit. Maybe you all should stay for a bit.”

Heather looked from Shift to Billy, then to the bartender and back to Shift. She glanced around the pub and noticed that the few people who had been in earlier had already cleared out. “How long do we have?” Heather asked Billy.

Billy shook his head. “I don’t know. My skills aren’t the sharpest lately.”

“How about you give it a fucking try!” Heather snapped.

Billy sighed and knelt to the ground, placing both palms flat on the pub floor. He closed his eyes and turned his head this way and that, then his eyes shot open. “Maybe a minute! We’ve got an HAV heading our way!”

“Okay, girls! Time to leave!” Heather shouted.

“I can’t let you do that,” Shift said menacingly, a scatter gun in his hands. “I can’t take you all, but I will put some holes in a couple of you. Trust me, where this shot has been, if you survive the blast you won’t survive the infection.”

Heather slowly reached into her pocket and Shift jerked the scatter gun towards her. “Calm down now,” Heather soothed. “Just pulling out some chits. Maybe we can work a deal.” Heather opened her palm to reveal a small cube of BC.

“Hey,” Shift said confused. “That ain’t chits.”

“No,” Heather grinned. “It’s not.” The BC melted and morphed into the familiar shape of microfilament, shooting out from Heather’s palm and wrapping itself around Shift’s neck. The man jerked and convulsed as Heather tossed the other end of the microfilament up and around the ceiling fan that lazily spun above the pub. Shift kicked out, his finger pulling the trigger on the scatter gun and a deafening roar filled the pub. Beth cried out and fell to the ground, Mel instantly at her side.

“It’s not bad! We can fix it on the go!” Melissa shouted.

“I got her!” Billy said, lifting Beth in his arms.

The sound of a shell being pumped into a shotgun chamber made Melissa look up to see the bartender pointing a 20 gauge at them.

“Get him down from there!” the bartender ordered.

Melissa kicked out, snagging a bar stool with her foot, then flinging it into the bartender’s face. He instinctively ducked, giving Melissa time to vault the bar, her right foot catching the man in the temple. An audible crunch could be heard and the bartender dropped dead on the spot. She hopped back over the bar and ran for the door with the others.

Heather pushed the door open and came to a halt as she watched an HAV roll to a stop in front of the pub. “Back inside now!”

***

“Um, hello?” Brian called out from under the canvas hood covering his head. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

He struggled against the restraints that tied his wrists to the arms of the chair he was seated in, but only succeeded in straining his muscles without gaining a single bit of freedom. He relaxed for a moment and placed his fingertips firmly against the chair.

“Don’t bother,” a woman’s voice said. “There isn’t a scrap of BC in this room. All wood, all the time. Water?”

“Where am I?” Brian asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” the woman responded. “Do you want some water or not?”

“What do you want with me?” Brian felt a hard slap upside his head. “Hey! What the hell?”

“Just answer the question, Brian,” the woman pressed. “Would you like some water?”

“Yes, please,” Brian answered, his voice shaking with fear.

“Excellent,” the woman said just before a violent blast of water hit Brian in the face.

Brian tried to scream, but his mouth just filled with water and he ended up gagging and struggling for breath. Five minutes seemed like an eternity as the water slammed against him. And then it was gone.

“Do you see anything?” the woman asked.

“Please, don’t do that again,” Brian pleaded.

“Shut up,” the woman ordered. “Don’t whine. Just tell me what you see.”

Brian waited in silence, snot dripping down his face, smearing onto the canvas as it rubbed against his skin. “Um, I can’t see anything…”

“No? Let’s try this again,” the woman said. “One more time, and if that doesn’t work we’ll move on to something else.”

Brian shuddered at the thought of something else, but that thought was pushed from his mind as the water was turned on him once again.

***

Mr. Stone’s cold hard eyes moved from Shock troop to Shock troop, trooper to trooper, as they stood at the back of the Heavy Assault Vehicle (HAV). “I want them alive if possible, especially the Ghost. Understand?”

All nodded.

“Good. With that said, if you blow them from the face of the Earth I won’t hold it against you.”

One of the troopers gave a short laugh and Mr. Stone closed on him quickly. “None of this is funny, trooper!” Mr. Stone yelled. “That Ghost in there will kill you faster than you can shoot your little dick load! You got me?”

“Yes, sir,” the trooper answered. “Sorry, sir.”

Mr. Stone nodded to Reginald and Reginald nodded to Agent Turner, who hit the ramp release, opening the entire back end of the massive vehicle.

“You ready for this, Agent Turner?” Reginald asked, gripping the agent’s shoulder.

“Of course,” Agent Turner said, not sounding ready in the slightest.

“Oh, and Shock troops? Don’t forget to not let the bitch touch you!” Mr. Stone cautioned. “She can control BC and will rip it from your skin before you get your first shot off!” Mr. Stone hefted his AR75 BC assault rifle. “After you, Agent Turner.”

***

“Still nothing, Bri?” the woman’s voice barked. “Come on, you’re going to have to do better.”

Brian gasped for air, his face swollen and bruised from the onslaught of water. “Please… Who are you? Why am I here?”

“You’re always here, stupid,” the woman answered.

Brian screamed as pain erupted from his left hand. “WHAT THE HELL?”

“That was your pinky finger,” the woman said. “Thought you should know since it’s hard to tell which one you lose once they start coming off.”

“You cut off my pinky? You fucking bitch!” Brian screamed. “You mother fucking bitch!”

Brian’s head snapped back and he felt a wave of nausea. Instantly he was in two worlds. One strapped to a chair while being tortured. The other was looking through someone else’s eyes, someone being carried. Through a pub? Was that a body hanging from a fan?

“What was that? Contact?” the woman asked, talking more to herself than to Brian. “I’m impressed, Brian. I thought I’d have to take more off.”

Brian felt his head firmly grasped between two hands.

“Tell me what you see,” the woman snarled. “Be specific. The more details you give the less, um, coaxing from me.”

***

“How bad are your skills?” Heather asked Billy. “Can you make us a hole?”

“Not in this shithole!” Billy yelled setting Beth down at the far end of the bar. “There isn’t enough BC to work with in this floor.”

“Then fucking blow a hole, Heather!” Melissa shouted. “Punch right through the floor and get us out of here!”

“I could bring the entire building down!” Heather responded grabbing up all available BC she could find and piling it close to her. “You still afraid of guns, Billy?”

“You know me,” he grinned. “I’m all about the vehicles, not about the boomsticks. All go, no blow.”

“Oh, I think you know about the blow,” Melissa hissed.

Billy frowned, but didn’t respond as he knelt by Beth and let two drops of BC fall onto her wounds. Instantly they split into a million microscopic sutures and began to repair the damage done by the shotgun, finding the shot and pushing it out of the wound before sewing the skin together.

Heather looked around in a panic. If it was just her, she wouldn’t have had problem; she could take the LOMSD fucks. But with Beth and Melissa to take care of and Billy an unreliable wild card, she knew she’d get distracted and end up with her brains splattered across the bar. Or worse, the girls’ brains splattered across the bar.

“Okay. I have a shitty idea that none of you will like,” she shouted, the sound of biochrome boots outside the pub quite audible. “Everyone in the crapper!”

“This isn’t like Naples, is it?” Billy asked, not bothering to disguise the disgust on his face.

“’Fraid so, Billy.”

“Fuck!” Billy cursed. “Hold on.” Billy dashed to Shift’s corpse and tore open his trouser leg, ripping the scabs off of the dead man’s calf and stuffing them in his pockets. “I can’t kick right now. That wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

The pub door exploded inward and Melissa screamed.

“GO!” Heather cried looking down at the BC gathered at her feet. Billy scooped up Beth again and ran to the men’s room.

“Come on!” he screamed at Melissa.

Melissa hesitated, looking at Heather. “I can help!” she shouted. “Just activate me!”

“Get in that crapper dammit!” Heather screamed, not waiting to see if Melissa followed her orders as she melted the BC she’d gathered into two ReBault mini-guns, one on each forearm. Long, wide braces slipped up and over her shoulders, joining in the back to support the weight of the heavy caliber weapons and take some of the load off of her already fatigued body. Heather took one look behind her to make sure everyone was clear before she opened up on the fools coming through the front door.

***

Mr. Stone and Reginald both hit the street, belly down as the front of the pub, the two Shock troops, and Agent Turner, were ripped apart by 7.62mm BC bullets.

“He lasted longer than I thought,” Reginald said, shouting over the gunfire. “I figured you would have slit his throat and tossed him out of the skiff first.”

“Too much paperwork,” Mr. Stone yelled back. “Plus, now I can shove Turner’s corpse in Gein’s face. He should have listened to me.”

“They never do, Mr. Stone. They never do.”

Reginald settled the butt of the rifle against his shoulder and returned fire into the pub, hoping his bullets would find their mark. Mr. Stone flipped up his scope’s cap, toggled to infrared and tried to find his target. It wasn’t very hard since the mini-guns on Heather’s forearms put out some intense heat.

“Thirteen degrees right of the door frame,” Mr. Stone called out as the rest of the LOMSD troopers took a knee, brought up their rifles and began to fire.

***

As soon as the return fire started whizzing past Heather’s head, she dumped the heavy mini-guns and tucked tail, running full out towards the men’s room. She cranked up her BC sensitivity as high as it could go without compromising her mind’s stability and began dodging, diving and twisting her body out of the way of the bullets coming at her. To an outsider it would have looked like she was having a running seizure, but to a Ghost it was pure artistry.

But all the athleticism and training in the world didn’t matter if you couldn’t dodge that last bullet.

Heather burst through the men’s room door just as that final bullet ripped through the case, tore into her back and burst through her chest, spraying blood across the stalls.

“HEATHER!” Melissa screamed, but Billy grabbed the girl’s arm and shoved her down the wide opening he had created by manipulating and widening the floor’s BC drain pipe. He pushed Beth after Mel then ducked low and crawled to Heather as the second round of gunfire tore through the cheap walls of the pub, showering him with bits of moldy plaster and ancient wallpaper. He hooked his arm in Heather’s and dragged her body to the hole, pulling her in after him. Together they fell into the darkness.

***

“I see… I see…” Brian began, the pain in his hand almost too much to bear. Not much of a Ghost, he thought. No wonder I don’t have an assignment. “I see a dark tunnel… No, wait… I see lights, bright lights… No, that’s not right.”

Brian jerked in the chair, his head swimming.

“What’s going on?” the woman asked.

“I think I’m falling!” Brian exclaimed.

Vertigo quickly overtook him and what little he had in his stomach came up, splattering the inside of the canvas bag.

“Ah, Jesus Christ!” the woman yelled.

***

Mr. Stone held up his hand and the troopers stopped firing instantly. He and Reginald listened intently, trying to figure out if their quarry was dead, incapacitated, waiting in ambush or gone. Mr. Stone sighed.

“Too quiet, Reginald,” Mr. Stone said. “I believe we may have lost them.”

“I agree, Mr. Stone,” Reginald responded. “I don’t have that warm feeling I get in my tummy with a kill.”

Mr. Stone lifted his hand once more and pointed towards the pub. The remaining five troopers ran inside and within seconds the calls of “Clear!” could be heard in the street. Mr. Stone and Reginald got to their feet, their rifles slung, as they stepped into the destroyed pub.

***

The canvas bag was ripped from Brian’s head and immediately another harsh jet of water slammed into his face. As soon as the water stopped a fresh bag was placed over his head and he was plunged back into a fearful twilight.

“Why don’t you want me to see who you are?” Brian asked. “I highly doubt you’re going to keep me alive when you’re all through with me. So why the bag?”

“You couldn’t handle seeing me,” the woman said. “I’m beyond your comprehension.”

“I know you think I’m dense,” Brian laughed, surprising himself with the sound. “But, I’m not that dense that I can’t deal with what is going on.”

“Yes, you are,” the woman’s voice hissed right next to his left ear.

***

Swift's shredded body swung from the ceiling fan, but it was hardly recognizable as human anymore.

“One less loose end to deal with,” Mr. Stone muttered as he gave Shift’s corpse a push with the barrel of his rifle.

“Bartender is dead also,” Reginald called from behind the bar. “Not by us though. Looks like he took a nasty shot to the temple. Instant kill. Well done.”

“You have to give credit to the Jacks, they do know how to kill,” Mr. Stone said lowering his rifle and training it on the men’s room entrance, the door itself nothing but splinters on the ground. Stone saw the large trail of blood leading to the floor drain and noticed how the floor was buckled and torn about it.

“I’d give anything to have that kind of control over BC,” Reginald said from behind Stone.

“I agree, Reggie,” Mr. Stone responded. “This game would be long over if we had those capabilities.” Mr. Stone turned quickly and walked back through the pub. “Someone get me the schematics of the sewer system directly below us!”

“Yes, sir,” a trooper responded.

“You calling Gein?” Reginald asked, following directly behind Mr. Stone.

“No, not yet,” Mr. Stone replied. “I think we still have some chase in us.”

Chapter Six

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Brian sobbed. “I can’t see anything clearly.”

The pain shot up his arm and he bit down on his tongue, blood gushing from between his teeth.

“No scream this time?” the woman asked. “You may make it yet. That was your thumb, by the way.”

“Thanks,” Brian gasped. “I wasn’t sure.”

The woman laughed. “Are you gaining a backbone, Brian Lisbon? Is there spunk in you after all?”

“Spunk?” Brian responded, spitting blood onto the canvas. “Who the fuck uses the word ‘spunk’?”

A hard slap answered his question.

“Don’t mistake my repartee for anything but mocking,” the woman barked. “Don’t ever get cute with me.”

Brian sighed and let his chin fall to his chest. “Take ‘em all. Take all my fingers. Take my toes, my ears, my nipples. I can’t control what I see.”

He felt the knife blade press against the back of his right ear.

“I will take ‘em all,” the woman whispered into his left. “I’ll cut you up bit by tiny bit until you can control what you see. Then, Brian Lisbon, then we will see what you are truly made of.”

***

Billy worked hard at closing the open wound sucking at Heather’s chest, but the little BC he had with him wasn’t enough. “I need more to work with!” he shouted at Melissa. “Do you see any BC around you?”

“I can’t see shit down here!” Melissa shouted back, trying to peer through the gloom of the sewer.

Billy stood up and reached around him gripping anything metal he could find. Finally he felt a pipe give and he concentrated, pulling the BC out of it. The pipe burst, spewing raw sewage onto his face and chest.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” he cried out, but didn’t bother wiping it away as he knelt next to Heather and started to apply the BC to her wound, but stopped. “What the holy fuck?”

The gaping wound in Heather’s chest began to close itself up tight. Billy watched in the gloom as the wound seemed to rebuild itself, spiraling closed until there was nothing but soft, fresh, pink flesh.

“How…? How…?” Melissa stammered from behind.

“I don’t fucking know,” Billy whispered.

Heather shot bolt upright, her lungs gasping for air. She started to flail, swinging wildly and Billy had to grab her arms to keep her from striking him.

“Heather! Heather stop!” he yelled.

Heather twisted away and vomited. Massive amounts of red black chunks and liquid spewed from her mouth.

“Help me up,” she said weakly when she was done heaving.

Billy lifted her to her feet and helped her stabilize while she found balance.

“Okay, I’m fine,” she said after a moment, patting Billy on the arm. “Thanks.”

“Can anyone tell me what just happened?” Melissa asked. “That wasn’t a BC patch job. That was something else.”

Heather looked from Melissa to Billy. “What happened?”

“I’ll explain what I saw,” Billy responded. “But, first can we get out of this shit tunnel?”

“Sure. And how do you propose we do that?”

Billy started pulling at every pipe around him, willing all the BC there was to his hands. They soon were being sprayed from all sides by drainage waste, toilet waste and water. The sludge at their feet began to rise and the current grew strong.

“I’m the vehicle guy, remember?” Billy said as he fashioned a small raft from the BC he could gather. He lifted Beth onto it and then helped Heather in also. Soon the force of all the flows was so strong Billy and Melissa had to grip the back of the raft to keep it from being swept away. He looked at her and smiled. “Not enough room for us on the raft. Guess we’ll just have to hang on and get dragged along.”

“I fucking hate you,” Melissa growled as she and Billy both gripped the raft with all their strength, lifted their feet and held on for dear life as the makeshift boat began to rocket along down the sewage tunnel.

***

Mr. Stone left the pub and surveyed the street. “Too many witnesses, Reggie,” he said casually. “I think we need to clean up a bit.”

“Maybe pin it on the Jacks?” Reginald suggested. “Not really any working security in Sin Circle to contradict us.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Mr. Stone smiled.

***

The denizens of Sin Circle were used to violence and brutality, but none had seen any as swift and thorough as what Mr. Stone ordered.

Scab growers and junkies alike were cut down in a blaze of automatic fire, the LOMSD troopers’ BC weapons barking death every way they turned.

Whores and their pimps were brutally beaten and clubbed, their brains and blood leaking into the dirty, trash filled streets. The unfortunate children of the Circle’s residents were not spared, their life flowing and mixing with their parents’ in the gutters, their tiny, helpless bodies crushed under BC boots, the life extinguished from their scared, pleading eyes.

Reginald watched with delight. It was better than anything the holos could dream up and he savored every brutal, gory moment.

***

“General?” Stephens asked. “Colonel Masterson is here.”

“Send him in Stephens,” General Fitzroy said, rubbing his face and setting yet another sheet of dataplast containing bad news down.

Blue Masterson entered the General’s office and executed a quick salute. “Colonel Masterson reporting as requested, sir!”

Fitzroy nodded to Stephens and waited for the Corporal to leave before speaking.

“Took you long enough to get your ass up here,” Fitzroy said. “Put your goddamn hand down and tell me what the fuck is going on!”

Blue relaxed and grinned broadly. “I don’t have a clue as to what you’re talking about, sir.”

General Fitzroy crossed the room and opened a small cabinet. He pulled out an unlabeled bottle and two glasses. “Bourbon?”

“Sir, bourbon hasn’t been available for nearly four hundred years,” Blue said. “How could you possibly get a hold of some?”

“Just because we’re cousins and were part of the same Family Combat Unit way back when doesn’t mean I’ll tell you all my secrets,” Fitzroy smiled pointing to the chair in front of his desk. “But, I am pulling rank and demanding you tell me all of yours.”

Blue sighed and thought for a moment, taking the offered seat. “It’s really going to hell isn’t it?”

“Yes, Blue, it is,” the General agreed handing Blue a generously filled glass. “I know you play the instructor around here for appearances, but you are going to have to be straight with me. I need to know what is going on and how much worse it’s going to get.”

Blue took a long pull from his glass. “It’ll get worse, sir, but if what I think will happen does happen then we won’t be beholden to the LOM or any of the Articles of Sanctuary anymore.”

Fitzroy waited. “Can you elaborate?”

Blue scratched at himself unceremoniously and Fitzroy frowned.

“Sorry, been out on the grounds all day keeping the skills sharp. Civvies are riding up,” Blue smiled. He took another drink, buying himself some time before answering. “I don’t know if I can elaborate, but let’s just say there are a few pieces in play right now that should yield results soon.”

“One of those pieces Heather Walton?” Fitzroy asked.

“You know it is,” Blue answered quickly. “The first piece is already in place and waiting. The second piece doesn’t even know it’s playing and that’s best for everyone.”

“You know where all these pieces are?” Fitzroy asked.

Blue nodded.

“You going to tell me?”

Blue shook his head.

“I don’t like this, Blue,” General Fitzroy frowned. “You’ve kept me privy to every single operation until this one. I know about Heather because I authorized that, but this other stuff… How does it fit with her?”

“What Heather has is tangible and real,” Blue replied. “A simple snatch and grab.”

“I think it was a little more complicated than that, Blue,” Fitzroy said, but Blue waved him off.

“Of course it was. But the other pieces aren’t as tangible. They can’t be held in a vault for safe keeping. They are way more important than that. It’s why I had to go outside usual channels.”

“The unregistered American? Elizabeth Laughlin? That was you! Are you telling me we actually have a working Vessel in the field right now?”

“Once again, sir, I haven’t a clue what you’re going on about.”

Corporal Stephens burst into the office, his face flushed. “General! I have the Prime Minister on the line again!”

“Sweet Jesus,” the General complained. “What does she want now?”

“I’m not sure, but she’s yelling about Sin Circle!” Stephens turned the holocast back on. “You need to watch this before talking to her. I’ll stall for you.”

“Good man, Corporal.”

The Corporal left the office, leaving Blue and the General to watch the events unfolding on the holo.

***

“This is Valerie Adams with HBC News reporting live from St. Titus Circle, commonly known as Sin Circle, an area of the city known for its rampant prostitution and scab dealing,” Valerie said into the holo. “But this evening real devastation and horror has come to the Circle.” The holo camera pulled back, revealing buildings and vehicles set ablaze. Bodies lay broken and bleeding on the ground, while LOMSD troopers milled about, weapons at the ready. “This evening the violence that we have been tracking all day came to a head here in this unfortunate area of London.”

Valerie looked off screen and began waving someone over. “We are fortunate again to speak with Agent Able Stone. Mr. Stone, can you tell us what happened here? What caused this destruction and is it true it’s related to the murders at Gramercy Secondary?”

“Well, Valerie,” Mr. Stone began. “Unfortunately, it is true that the Gramercy murders and the slaughter that has occurred here this evening are related. We received a tip from one of your loyal viewers that Elizabeth Laughlin was spotted here in the Circle, probably to get a fix for the scab addiction she is afflicted with, and we acted immediately.” Mr. Stone’s face fell and he rubbed at his temples. “Unfortunately, we were too late when we got here and they slipped through our fingers, but not before laying waste to these poor citizens. We imagine a scab deal went horribly wrong and the violence was taken to the streets and all these good citizens paid the price.”

“You said ‘they’, Mr. Stone. Does this Elizabeth Laughlin have accomplices?”

“Yes, she does, Valerie. We were lucky to get positive IDs on the others with her. I believe my assistant has given your tech folks their holos.”

Immediately the images of Beth, Melissa, Billy and finally Heather filled the holocast.

“Isn’t that last person the woman sought for the break in at an LOMSD facility earlier today?”

“I’m not at liberty to comment on that, Valerie, but as soon as I have confirmation I will let you know.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stone.”

“Of course. Once again, if any of your viewers see these people, please have them contact our hotline right away. Do not try to engage them in any way. They are extremely dangerous,” Mr. Stone said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a lot of work to do.”

“Understandable. Thank you for speaking with us,” Valerie said, turning fully forward. “I will be following this story as it unfolds and will make sure all of the HBC viewing audience gets up to the minute information as it comes in. This is Valerie Adams for HBC News.”

***

“Good God,” General Fitzroy said. “Was that Billy Brenton? What the fuck does he have to do with any of this? That scabhead has been blacklisted for years.”

Blue grunted then stood up. “Sir, you have a very pissed off Prime Minister to deal with and I have a cluster fuck of an operation to rein in. If you will excuse me.”

“Whoa there!” Fitzroy growled. “You are not off the hook that easy, Colonel. On or off the books, Ghost operations still report to me. Have a seat. You’re not going anywhere.”

The General downed the last of the bourbon in his glass and activated his com. “Prime Minister, I just… Yes, I understand… Now hold on one Goddamn minute there! This is an American base and according to the Articles of Sanctuary— No! I will not lower my voice or change my tone you stupid fucking cow! This is my base and I will not hand it over to the King of England or the King of fucking Heaven for that matter!”

Blue knew everything had just gone from really fucking bad to incredibly fucking worse and smiled while he sipped his bourbon. It was just the way he liked things.

***

“Goddamn it, Stone!” Director Gein shouted over the com. “You didn’t have to kill Turner!”

Mr. Stone grinned as Reginald drove the mag-skiff out of Sin Circle and towards the Thames. “I didn’t kill him, sir,” Mr. Stone responded. “He wanted to take point. Probably to prove something. Those damn Jacks cut him down. It’s a real tragedy.”

“He chose to take point? HE CHOSE TO TAKE POINT?”

“Something like that.”

Director Gein fought for control of himself and Mr. Stone’s grin widened as he heard the man struggle to keep his voice even. “Where are you going now, Stone? I’d order you back here, but you’ll just ignore that order. I’d order you to accomplish your original assignment, but it appears you’ve already flushed out your target. Plus, there are other forces at work now concerning the American base.”

“Other forces, sir? Anything I need to know about?” Mr. Stone asked, honestly curious.

“YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW SHIT, STONE!” Gein roared. “Just get that fucking Ghost and what she took and get your ass back here!”

“Yes, sir. That’s been my plan all along.”

“Well, good to know you are following some type of plan! And stay off the FUCKING HOLOS! You are not authorized to give interviews!” Director Gein disconnected, leaving Mr. Stone wondering.

“They don’t need us at the base anymore, Reginald.”

“Really? I guess this has gotten much bigger than the two of us now,” Reginald replied.

“You are probably right,” Mr. Stone said. “We are strictly on a capture/kill mission now. Plus, recovery of whatever that Jack bitch stole.”

“My favorite kind of assignment,” Reginald smiled.

“Mine too, Reggie. How much further?”

“We should be at the sewage treatment plant soon. Just a few more minutes.”

Mr. Stone sighed and leaned back in his seat, his eyes closing. “I need to clear my head for a moment. Wake me if I nod off.”

“Of Course, Mr. Stone. Of Course.”

***

“I have the Royal Guard coming to assume control of my base, Blue! You care to tell me what the fuck is going on now?” General Fitzroy growled, helping himself to a lot more bourbon.

“It would be better if you didn’t know, sir,” Blue answered. “The fact I let you in on Heather Walton’s plan was more out of courtesy. The rest, well, you don’t want your feet in that shit.”

“Heather’s plan? You didn’t tell me crap all about that except that she was going in deep and it might mean a dust up with LOMSD,” Fitzroy said, sitting heavily at his desk. “I think we’ve passed the dust up phase, don’t you?”

“Even more reason for you to know as little as possible,” Blue insisted.

General Fitzroy set his drink aside and leaned forward on his desk. “Colonel Masterson, I am now giving you a direct order to fill me in completely. Every single piece of the puzzle.”

“You know I can’t do that, sir,” Blue said, standing up. “Some things are bigger than you or me. You told me that yourself a long time ago when you put me in charge of Ghost Operations.”

“Sit down, Blue,” Fitzroy said. “You aren’t leaving this office until I get something.”

“Sir, with all due respect—” Blue began, but General Fitzroy’s eyes became very hard and cold as he pulled his 9mm from his top drawer and set it on the desk.

“Respect has nothing to do with this, Blue,” Fitzroy said calmly, his hand resting casually on the pistol. “I will shoot you in the fucking leg if you don’t start talking.”

Blue looked from the General’s eyes to the pistol and back. “You’re actually going to do it, aren’t you?”

“Yep.”

Blue hesitated, thinking the situation through. “Where in the leg?”

The General grinned. “Does it matter?”

Blue returned to his chair. “Okay. I’ll tell you one thing.” Fitzroy began to protest, but Blue held up his hand. “I can’t tell you more, sir. If this gets any worse, which it probably will, I have certain safeguards in place. You are just going to have to trust me. Agreed?”

The General studied Blue’s face for a long time, saying nothing.

“Sir? Are we in agreement?” Blue asked.

“Fine, Blue,” General Fitzroy sighed. “I trust you. What can you tell me?”

“The LOM has obtained tech that could possibly match our Ghost abilities, sir.”

“Full integration and control of BC? Is that even possible without American genetic coding? ” the General asked in alarm. “They are forbidden to even try to do that under the Articles of Sanctuary!”

“Yeah, well, those articles are flying out the window right now,” Blue laughed. “And mainly because of this tech.”

“This is what Heather has?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what is this tech, Blue?”

“I don’t know the scientific specifics,” Blue said, rubbing at his face, the day, the weeks, the years catching up with him. “But, it’s some type of nanotech. Different than the BC molecular computing. More autonomous. Potentially more deadly.”

“Great. So basically the fate of the Americans’ place in this world is in the hands of Heather Walton?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say ‘place’…” Blue began, but waved off the General as he started to ask another question. “But our survival certainly is in her hands. If she can pull this off then I think our future, at least, will be solidified.”

Fitzroy locked eyes with Blue and the two men stayed that way for some time.

***

Melissa stood there fuming in the dark as the puddle of human waste at her feet grew with each drip and drop coming off of her ruined clothes. “I fucking hate you, Billy.”

“Go jump in the Thames. That’ll get you rinsed off,” Billy said as he helped Heather to her feet. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Heather said weakly, but certainly sounding better than she did before they all started their nasty journey through the sewage tunnel. She looked down at herself and the state she was in. “At least the shit covers the blood.” She reached around and took off the case, carefully inspecting it for damage. The BC it was made out of was programmed to seal instantly should the case be breached. As far as Heather could tell it had done its job.

“You gonna let us know what’s in there?” Billy asked, eyeing the case.

“Nope,” Heather answered curtly. “I was supposed to take this to Suffolk BOP, but now that I have been compromised I need to get this out of the Kingdom.”

Billy lifted Beth from the raft and set her gently on the ground. “Where are you thinking of going?”

“Tibet,” Beth whispered.

“What did she say?” Heather asked. “I couldn’t hear her.”

“I think she said Tibet,” Billy said. “She’s out of it. Where are you thinking of going?”

“Tibet,” Beth whispered again then came fully awake, thrashing about, kicking Billy in the back of the legs and knocking him off his feet.

“Hey! Fucking watch it!” he yelled.

Heather knelt next to Beth. “Why Tibet?”

Beth blinked several times, not comprehending the question. “Wha—What? Tibet?”

“Billy was asking me where I was going and you kept answering ‘Tibet’. Why?”

“I said that? I don’t remember saying that at all.”

“Yes, you said that. Why? Think hard.”

Beth’s brow furrowed and she looked as if she was in great pain. “It seems…right? Does that make sense? I can actually see Tibet in my mind. Like a full blown holo.” She shook her head, trying to clear the image. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a holo of Tibet. Not even in school. What does it mean?”

“I don’t know why you would see that,” Heather said suspiciously. “Tibet is my backup in case this whole operation gets blown to shit, which it has.”

“They couldn’t have thought of a closer location as a backup?” Billy sneered. “Hey! How about instead of just a few kilometers down the road we send you thousands of kilometers away through very unfriendly territory and realistically get you killed before you get there. How’s that work?”

“I’ve been to Tibet quite a few times actually, without a scratch,” Heather said with confidence. The confidence was quickly replaced by pain as she was doubled over with a racking, wet cough.

“You okay?” Billy asked with concern.

Heather fell to her hands and knees and heaved up glob after sticky glob of thick red-black liquid.

“Oh my God!” Beth said. “She needs a doctor!”

“I’ll…be…fine,” Heather croaked, wiping her mouth, the heaving over. “The BC is just repairing the damage that bullet did. I’m lucky to even be breathing.”

“So, Tibet then,” Billy said, clapping his hands together. “With the noise we’ve all made on this side of the Channel, I don’t think just getting out of the Kingdom is going to keep us safe. The LOMSD will be waiting for us on the other side and there’s a lot of country to cover to get to Tibet.” Billy turned and watched Melissa pull herself from the Thames and onto shore, her clothes not really clean, but no longer coated in filth. “And with the condition you are in, plus the girls’, the roads aren’t an option.”

Heather sighed. “Amsterdam?”

“Amsterdam,” Billy nodded.

“Amsterdam?” Melissa asked ringing water from her hair. “What’s in Amsterdam?”

“Not what, but who,” Heather said. “Someone completely off everyone’s radar and that has a special gift that can get us to Tibet.”

Melissa stared at Heather for a moment. “Tibet? Wait…what? I thought you just said Amsterdam? What the fuck did I miss?”

***

“Just got a ping on their location,” Reginald said.

“Huh?” Mr. Stone opened his bleary eyes. “They aren’t at the plant?”

“Nope. Looks like they came out at a drain pipe two miles north of the plant,” Reginald replied. “We’ll be there in less than two minutes.”

Mr. Stone rubbed his eyes and sat upright. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his pistol. “Three magazines. Matrix bullets, fine powder,” he said. After a moment there was a beep and Stone retrieved the magazines from a compartment in the dashboard. “Need anything, Reginald?”

“Nope. Already have my L9 set to go in the boot,” Reginald answered. “I figured I’d take a sniper position once we get there since these Jacks like to run.”

“That’s a fine idea, Reggie,” Mr. Stone nodded. “Just don’t hit me.”

“Mr. Stone, you insult me!” Reginald cried.

“Just taking the piss, Reginald,” Mr. Stone smiled.

Chapter Seven

From the moment Corporal Stephens received word that Commander Arthur Lefonte of His Majesty’s Royal Guard was at the front gate until the moment the man walked in to General Fitzroy’s office, the entire base went from everyday readiness to full alert. To the casual observer, the change wouldn’t have been evident, but to the trained eye of Commander Lefonte, it was alarming and quite impressive.

“I’m just one man, General,” Lefonte said, extending his hand as Stephens shut the office door behind him. “I think the call to arms might be a bit over the top, don’t you think?”

“We’re Americans, Commander,” the General responded, giving the man’s hand a good pump before dropping it and offering Lefonte a seat next to Colonel Masterson. “Over the top is how we’re born.”

“Yes, quite,” Lefonte grinned coldly. He turned to look at Colonel Masterson. “It’s good to see you again, Colonel.”

“Commander,” Blue nodded. “Still drinking that crappy 18-year-old ass squeezings you call scotch?”

“Not anymore,” Lefonte laughed. “I’ve since found a twenty-year-old that has extra taint flavor. Just the way you like it.”

The room filled with the hollow laughter of the three veteran soldiers. Then silence.

“So, Commander Lefonte, the Prime Minister has informed me that you are here to take command of my base?” General Fitzroy said. “Will this be after you pry my dead cold hands open or before?”

“Preferably neither, General,” the Commander responded. “We don’t want bloodshed or violence. We all know what you Americans are capable of and no one wants to go to war with you. Plus, the King hasn’t coordinated this with any of the other Monarchies, so as far as I know, all bases on the Continent are active and without restriction, which would put us at a great disadvantage should you call for reinforcements.”

“That’s a lot of info to throw our way, Commander,” Blue said, not buying any of it. “I’d think your higher ups would want you to be a little more discreet.”

“On the contrary, Colonel Masterson,” Commander Lafonte responded. “I’m here in the spirit of openness. Since there is the distinct possibility that Americans are involved in the earlier violence of today.”

“I assure you…” Fitzroy started.

“Let me finish, General,” Lafonte insisted. “I am not going to be taking over your base. I am here to facilitate the recall of all Family Combat Units from the field and to oversee their speedy return to your base. That is all we are asking while these issues are being investigated.”

“Bullshit!” Blue snarled.

“Blue,” Fitzroy warned. “I understand what you are saying, but let’s not kid each other, Arthur. While you aren’t taking control of the base, you are taking control of our jurisdiction and confining us to our base. Really, we’re just saving you the hassle and expense of building a new prison.”

Lefonte smiled slightly, debating his response. “Oh, why cock it all up? Yes General that is exactly what is happening. I have six divisions at the ready if I need them. I am hoping I don’t need them.”

“Six divisions? I wasn’t aware the King had that manpower at his disposal.” General Fitzroy leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers precisely one at a time. “You won’t have any resistance, Commander. I give you my word. Corporal!”

The Corporal was in the office before the last syllable of his name was off the General’s lips. “Yes, sir?”

“Please set up Commander Lafonte with whatever he needs. And make sure there is a room ready for him in the officers’ complex.”

“Already done, sir,” Stephens responded. “Commander Lafonte’s trunk has been placed in his quarters and we have a data station set up in the office next door for him to use.”

General Fitzroy smiled and extended his hand. “I hope that is adequate, Commander?”

“More than, General,” the Commander said, shaking Fitzroy’s hand once again and giving a quick salute. The General returned the salute. “Thank you, General Fitzroy. I’ll be sure and keep you up to date on the findings of our investigation.”

“Yeah. You do that,” Fitzroy said. “Oh, and Commander? Let’s not forget I have lost people today also, okay? That really sticks in my craw, understand?”

The Commander nodded and left the room, Stephens closing the door after him.

“This is total bullshit!” Blue cursed. “We’ve been grounded like little fucking kids!”

“Actually, this is perfect, Blue,” the General smiled. “Now everything is out of our hands. We don’t need to make a single move except to defend ourselves. We’ll have everyone at the ready if this all goes south.”

“You mean further than it already has?”

“Yes. Now let’s hope you know what the fuck you’re doing and all your plans work out the way they are supposed to. And get whatever Ghosts you have out there ready to respond at a second’s notice.”

“Will do, sir,” Blue said, saluted and left, leaving the General to his troubled thoughts.

***

“Wow,” Beth said in awe. “That is incredible.”

They all stood on the riverbank admiring Billy’s handiwork.

“You sure that thing will stay afloat?” Melissa asked, skeptical of the small watercraft Billy had put together from the scrap BC they all scrounged along the waterfront.

“It’ll float and it’ll move,” Billy said. “I’m useless in combat nowadays, but I used to while away the hours between fixes by studying people’s cast off dataplasts. I’m up on pretty much all the new vehicle designs. I’ve always kept that part of me sharp. The drive engine I put in this thing will outrun anything the LOMSD might have out there patrolling.”

“Speaking of fixes, how are you feeling?” Heather asked. “Can you drive this thing?”

Billy shrugged. “I just took something. Nothing big, but it’ll keep the edge off.”

“What did you take? You aren’t going to sink us out there thinking you’re fighting sea monsters or anything, are you?” Heather smiled.

“Nah,” Billy’s eyes grew sad and his shoulders dropped. “I’m so far gone, Heather, that it doesn’t really matter what I take. It’s all just to keep me from getting sick. I haven’t actually been high in years.”

“Good,” Melissa snarled. “I’d hate for a worthless piece of shit like you to get any pleasure from your life.” She stepped onto the sleek, metal boat. “You guys coming?”

Beth put her hand out and Melissa helped her aboard. Billy put his hand out, but Melissa ignored it. “Really?” she snapped.

Billy jumped awkwardly on and went to help Heather, but the Ghost was already next to him before he could even turn. “I’ve forgotten how fast you are,” he laughed.

“Never fast enough,” she said quietly and they shared a short, sad look.

“Let’s go!” Melissa barked.

“Yes, boss!” Billy responded. “Right away, boss!”

Heather began to cough.

“You okay?” Beth asked.

Heather once again doubled over and heaved more thick fluid. Twice as much came spewing from her mouth and Beth had to actually grab onto her to keep her from falling over the side of the boat.

“Move!” Melissa snapped, shoving Beth aside and helping Heather sit on the deck. “What’s going on, Heather?”

“I don’t know,” she gasped. “This isn’t BC repair. This is something different.”

“You think?” Melissa responded with a mix of sarcasm and concern.

“Could it have to do with what’s in the case?” Beth asked. “Maybe whatever was in there got in you when you were shot.”

“The case seals itself up,” Melissa said. “Weren’t you paying attention?”

“Stop it, Mel. She’s just trying to help,” Heather said, her breathing coming more even. “Go see what’s taking Billy so long to get the engine going.”

Melissa glared at Beth and Heather and then stomped off into the cabin.

“She didn’t always used to be Queen Bitch,” Heather said, getting to unsteady feet.

“She has as long as I have known her,” Beth said.

“That’s right. You two go to school together,” Heather said taking a slow deep breath. “I think she’s mentioned you before.”

“She’s mentioned me?”

“Don’t ask for details. I’m always a little preoccupied with, um, work, so I don’t pay attention as much as I should.” Heather’s face grew alarmed. “Jesus fuck! What about your parents? They must be freaked out by now!”

“Foster parents,” Beth responded. “They don’t give a shit unless the Kingdom changes their credit allotment.”

“Oh, sorry…”

Beth shrugged. “It is what it is. Kinda weird finding out I’m an American. Sorta like those old fairy tales.”

“Hopefully this one has a happy ending,” Heather smiled.

“None of the real ones ever did,” Beth said solemnly. “Usually somebody ends up with their eyes plucked out or near death in a glass casket.”

“Hello there!” a voice called from the riverbank. “Going somewhere?”

Beth and Heather looked to the shadowed figure on the bank waving. The first shot went just wide of Beth’s head, taking a short lock of hair with it. Heather shoved her to the deck. “Billy! We need to go now!”

***

Reginald had Beth in his sights for the last minute and was just waiting for Mr. Stone to give the signal. “Oh, such a waste of a young life. Sigh.”

When Mr. Stone began to call out and wave, Reginald took his shot. To say he was embarrassed that he missed would be an understatement. He hadn’t compensated for the undulation of the boat on the Thames as another boat further out went by.

He chambered a second round, but Beth was already out of sight. He switched targets to the Ghost and squeezed the trigger.

***

Heather’s head rocked back as the bullet tore into her left eye and exited out the back of her skull. Beth screamed as she was sprayed with blood and grey matter.

Then Beth’s scream caught in her throat as she watched the massive hole in Heather’s head quickly close up and a milky orb replace the green one that had just been vaporized. Heather sank to her knees as Billy got the drive going and the boat rocketed forward.

***

Reginald pulled the scope away from his own eye and frowned. “That was strange. Did I miss again?”

Mr. Stone opened fire, not sure why Reginald’s shot didn’t take the Ghost out. He ran along the bank, replacing one magazine with another as fast as he could, hoping at least one of his shots would find a mark.

He stopped as soon as the boat was clearly out of range, his lungs burning from the exertion. He watched the boat fade away into the night mist.

“Reginald?” he called over his com.

“Sorry about that, Mr. Stone,” Reginald responded. “Not sure what happened there.”

“Me neither,” Mr. Stone said, turning and walking gingerly back to where Reginald was positioned. “I think I twisted my ankle on a rock or bit of driftwood.”

“Sorry to hear that. Do you need some help?”

“No, I’m fine. Just call this in and have the satellites tasked to track that boat,” Mr. Stone said. “Hopefully it isn’t cloaked. If it is, have the techs look for a dull spot on the scan. That should tell us where they’re at.”

“Will do, Stone. Again, sorry about missing the shot.”

“You didn’t miss, Reginald. I don’t know what happened, but you didn’t miss.”

***

“Corporal?” General Fitzroy called. “Let Commander Lafonte know I have put the order out for all FCUs to close up shop and return to base. Have Communications tally the responses. Let me know if we have any stragglers.”

“Yes, sir,” Corporal Stephens responded.

***

“Roll her on her side!” Melissa shouted. Beth just sat there stunned, watching the liquid spew from Heather’s mouth. “Are you fucking listening?”

Beth couldn’t move; she heard Melissa, but she was frozen to the spot, the sight of the viscous fluid mesmerizing her.

Melissa shoved her aside and rolled Heather over, letting the red-black goo slide easier from between Heather’s lips.

“What the fuck is this shit?” Melissa cried out. “It smells horrible.”

“What’s going on back there?” Billy called from the cabin. “Is Heather alright?”

“No! She’s puking up sludge!” Melissa turned on Beth. “What happened?”

“She…she had her brains blown out,” Beth stammered.

Melissa checked the back of Heather’s head and found no sign of any type of wound. “What the hell are you jabbering about? There’s no exit wound.”

“Look at her eye. The bullet went through there.” Beth shivered. “Then out her head. Look at me.”

Melissa could see the bits of bone and brain matter splattered across Beth’s already soiled clothes. She lifted Heather’s right eyelid exposing a normal green eye. Then lifted her left lid and gasped. “Jesus fuck!”

“See,” Beth said. “I don’t know how, but her head healed. It almost looked like it was healing as the damage was happening. One second there was a hole then the next there wasn’t.”

“Uggh,” Heather gurgled.

“Shhh,” Melissa soothed. “Just stay still.”

Heather convulsed and an incredible volume of sludge disgorged from her mouth, then slowed to a trickle and stopped. Heather’s breathing began to normalize and soon her eyes fluttered open, both once again green.

“Whoa…” Melissa said. “That eye was just full-on white.”

“What…” Heather wheezed. “What happened?”

“Fuck if I know,” Melissa answered. “Freak here said you had your brains blown out, but you look fine to me.”

“She did!” Beth yelled. “I watched the bullet rip through her fucking head and come out the back! Look! Look at me! I have her all over me!” Beth balled up her fists in anger, her body shaking with uncontrollable rage as she got to her feet. “And don’t call me freak again or I swear I’ll fucking kill you!”

Melissa grinned. “Fine. No more freak. As long as you promise to keep up the attitude and don’t bring back pussy Laughlin.”

“Have to agree,” Heather smiled weakly. “I prefer the backbone version.”

“You people are insane!” Beth shouted.

“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Billy called again from the cabin. “Fucking hello! Let’s not make the junkie worry here, please!”

Chapter Eight

“Again?” Director Gein shouted over the com. “You are supposed to be my best agent, Mr. Stone, yet you have done nothing but disappoint me today!”

“I understand, sir,” Mr. Stone replied. “I have to admit that my performance has been less than stellar.”

“Less than stellar? How about an all-out motherfucking failure!?!”

“That might be a bit harsh, sir, but you are the boss,” Mr. Stone responded.

Director Gein took a deep breath and held it then slowly released it, letting the air hiss between his teeth. “What am I going to do with you, Stone?”

“Well, first, Reginald and I will need a boat,” Mr. Stone said. “Preferably a fast one. Second, we’ll—”

“You’re getting fuck all is what you are getting, Agent,” Gein growled. “I should have Reginald put a bullet between your eyes right now.”

Mr. Stone didn’t respond, locking eyes with his partner. Reginald gave him a quizzical look, but Stone just shook his head.

“Did that get your attention, Agent Stone?” Gein laughed. “It’s sobering knowing you are expendable, isn’t it?” Director Gein thought for a moment then grunted. “I’m calling in the Spiders. Stay where you are, Stone. I’ll send them to you. They’ll suck a few facts from your brain, it will hurt immensely and then they will be on their way. Hopefully they can finish the job that you couldn’t.”

“Of course, sir,” Mr. Stone responded soberly. “If that is what you feel the situation warrants.”

“Fuck you, Stone.” The director disconnected.

“How bad?” Reginald asked.

“Spiders,” Mr. Stone responded.

“We really bollixed it all up, didn’t we?” Reginald grimaced.

“They don’t send Spiders when it all goes right, Reginald,” Mr. Stone growled. He slammed his fist against his thighs. “FUCK ALL!”

***

Blue Masterson’s com beeped on his personal channel. “Charlie? That you?”

“Dad!” Charlie Masterson cried. “They…snipers…everyone…reinforcements…”

“Charlie? What’s going on? Charlie!” Static squawked in Blue’s com and he winced. “CHARLIE!” The connection was lost and Blue Masterson found himself scared for the first time in a very long time.

***

“Come on, you fucking Jacks! Take what’s coming to you!” the leader of the mob yelled from the street. “You think you can kill innocents and get away with it? Fuck you!”

Another man stepped forward, holding a crate of bottles, rags stuffed into the neck of each. The mob swarmed him, hands yanking the bottles from the crate and setting fire to the rags. Almost as one the mob threw the burning bottles at the small house, flames engulfing the roof and siding.

“Burn, you fucking Jacks! Burn in Hell!”

Inside, Tabitha Shepherd hurried the children down the stairs and into the basement. “They’ve set the house afire!” she yelled down to her husband Dell.

“Fuck!” he cursed, yanking the door to their safe room open. “I can’t get BOP, either! System is overloaded! I think every Family Unit in the UK is trying to report in at once!”

The sound of breaking glass could be heard above as Tabitha followed the twins and Albert, their oldest, into the safe room. “Not like they can do anything anyway with that mob!” she called.

She looked into the scared eyes of her children. The twins, Barbara and Russell, only four years old, clutched at each other as they leapt onto their cot and pulled the blanket tight about them. Albert, seven, sat at the com console and popped out his right eye, grabbing the ocular jack and plugging it into the empty socket. Birth abnormalities, common among Americans considering their use of in vitro genetic engineering, were never wasted and always used to their full advantage.

“It’s just the heat from the fire shattering the glass!” Albert called out, the ocular jack giving him instant cerebral access to the holo cams stationed about the house.

“That’s everything,” Dell said, shutting and securing the three foot thick door behind him. He turned and looked at his family. “We’re in here until they come to get us.”

“What if they don’t, Daddy?” Russell asked, trying to be brave.

“We have enough food and water to last us for three weeks,” Dell said, smiling. “We’ll be fine.”

***

“STEP AWAY FROM THE SHIP!” the voice boomed over the loudspeaker. “DO NOT APPROACH! WE WILL OPEN FIRE!”

“They aren’t listening, sir,” Darren McCauley said, setting the handset aside and looking towards his Aunt Fiona.

“Then open fire, Darren,” Fiona responded. “We can’t afford to lose this boat to an angry mob.”

“Aunt Fi? But those are civilians!” Darren cried.

The sound of gunfire erupted and bullets began to ricochet off the Klondike’s biochrome hull.

“They were civilians, Darren,” Fiona said, setting her fourth loaded shotgun down on the table in front of her and picking up an empty fifth. “Now they are armed combatants. Open fire.”

Darren hesitated for a moment.

“Do it now, boy!” Fiona yelled. “That is a direct order!”

Darren plunged his hands into the ship’s weapons console, the jack points on his forearms instantly making contact and giving him full access to more than enough firepower.

“God help us,” he whispered as he activated the 50 caliber turrets and fired round after round after round into the crowd of attacking civilians. Despite the noise and vibrations caused by the big guns, Darren could distinctly feel and hear the Klondike’s engines start up.

“Where are we going, Aunt Fi?” Darren asked, adjusting the cooling units to keep the guns from overheating and jamming.

“We got orders,” Fiona said, manning the helm and bringing the Klondike slowly away from the dock. She winced at the sound of every ricocheting bullet and impact against the ship’s hull. “We’re heading back to base. All FCUs have been recalled.”

“Why are they attacking us?” Darren asked, but his aunt didn’t hear him; she was too busy trying to navigate the choked waterway. Darren felt as if he was going to be sick as he watched people he had considered neighbors and friends collapse and die at his hands, their blood, guts and brains splattered across the dock’s wooden planks.

Neither American saw the incoming rocket until it was too late.

***

Jonathan Martin stripped the bum of his clothes, and taking on the gait of a drunk, stumbled out of the alleyway into the crush of people on the sidewalk. He bumped into a few, playing the part to the hilt until he was sure the LOMSD shadows had dismissed him and moved on through the crowd. He kept trying to activate his com, but nothing would go through.

Being a Ghost, and free of jack points, he knew the LOMSD’s tech wasn’t going to pick him up on their scans, but if he was careless, the face-rec would nab him the second he was caught on a holo cam. He pulled the hood of the soiled jacket closer around his face and ducked his head as he took the next corner, coming face to muzzle with a Leinhauser12 auto-pistol.

“Hello, Jack,” a voice growled from behind the auto-pistol pointed at Jonathan’s nose. “And goodbye, Jack.”

***

Blue burst into Communications, his blood boiling, ready for war.

“Get me Charlie Masterson’s com signal now!” he shouted.

One of the com Techs began the search, grew puzzled, tried harder then pushed away from his console. “We’re locked out.”

“What?” Blue said. “How can that be? We’re a closed system, nothing can lock us out. They’d have to physically…be… Mother fucker!”

***

“Yes, Your Highness,” Commander Lafonte said into his com. “I have activated the protocol. I have maybe five minutes until they discover what I have done.” He listened intently. “Yes, of course. If the LOM plants are in place throughout the Kingdom and have already instigated riots against the Jacks then the days of American military dominance have finally come to an end. God bless you, Your Highness. I thank you for this honor. All for King and Country!”

***

“Corporal!” General Fitzroy called. “Stephens? Where the fuck are you?” Frustrated, the General pushed away from his desk and stalked to his office door. “Goddamn it Stephens! What the hell are…you…?”

He stared at the Corporal’s unseeing eyes, the mind-spike jutting from between them, and the pool of blood that was already congealing on the desk around his assistant’s head. “Oh God, Stephens…”

Decades of military training told him his com wouldn’t work, even as he went through the motions to activate it. He stepped back into his office and locked and sealed the door.

Moving to his liquor cabinet, he shoved the bottles aside and pulled at the back, revealing a small panel. Pressing his thumb to the panel, he felt a quick prick of pain as his temperature and DNA signature were verified, and half the wall slid away.

Fitzroy stripped down to his civvies, revealing a well toned body covered in scars and jack points. He stepped to the wall and pulled out his personal Shock suit, activating it immediately. Stepping into the suit, the biochrome sealed about him, fusing with the jack points that were in turn fused to his bones and nervous system. He rolled his neck, loosening it before he activated the helmet and face shield.

“Oh, Commander Lafonte,” he growled. “I am so going to fuck you up.”

***

“Seal that door!” Blue ordered. “No one in or out!”

One of the Techs activated the lock down procedure. Nothing.

“Um, Colonel? I don’t even have basic functions anymore,” the Tech said.

“Check your jack port,” a second Tech advised.

“I did,” the first Tech replied. “My jack ports are functioning fine. It’s the system!”

“Son of a bitch!” Blue yelled, moving to the door and placing his hands against it. He narrowed his eyes and concentrated, melting and shifting the thick BC doors until their mass sealed off the doorway. “That will hold them!”

“Hold who, sir?” another Tech asked.

“The six divisions that are about to overtake this base!” Blue snarled. “Now, get your little brains together and open a radio channel for me!”

“Radio, sir? As in radio waves?” a Tech asked.

“No! As in radio fucking flowers! Yes, radio waves! They have our com shut down, but they’ll never think of radio. All I need is a couple minutes.”

One of the Techs de-ported his jacks and ripped open the panel below his console. “Someone hand me some pliers! And I need a soldering gun if we have it!”

“What the hell is a soldering gun?” another Tech asked.

“I can do it,” Blue said, crouching next to the Tech. “What do you need connected?”

“See the white with red and black with yellow?”

“Yeah.”

“I need those fused together on that node right there.”

Blue grasped the wires between his fingers and melted them both into the node as indicated. “Done and done.”

The Tech stood up and re-ported. There was a loud squelch and hiss of static over the speakers. “You have an open channel, sir. I do mean open. Everything you say will be heard by anyone listening.”

“Understood. What’s your name, son?”

“Nester, sir.”

“That your first name or last name?”

“Last name, sir.”

“Good. Otherwise I’d have to punch your parents.” Blue cleared his throat and spoke up. “Attention all Americans listening to this. Suffolk base is under attack by the LOM and by the Royal Guard. I do not know the state of the other bases on the continent, but as of right now all Americans within this Kingdom are at war! This is Colonel Masterson. I am giving you full authority to use whatever force necessary to insure your survival and the survival of any Americans with you. Fuck their shit up and send them to Hell!” Blue looked over at Nester. “How was that?”

“Not bad, sir. Are we really at war?”

“Fucking-A right we are!”

***

General Fitzroy ripped the door out of the wall, his Shock suit barely registering a strain.

“Hello, General,” Lafonte said before emptying his pistol into Fitzroy’s midsection.

The General stumbled back stunned, then collapsed to his knees. His Shock suit began to disengage and pull away from his body. Clutching at his stomach, he looked down and was surprised by the amount of blood streaming between his fingers.

“What? Didn’t you think I would expect Shock suits?” Commander Lafonte said. “These bullets could pierce BC ten times as thick as your suit.”

“You…fucking…little…prick,” Fitzroy gasped. “My…people…will…fight…to the…death.”

“They won’t get a chance, General,” Lafonte smirked. “I lied about the six divisions. There isn’t a single trooper coming to take this base.” He pulled a small box from his pocket and flicked it open. A single button was set inside. “I know it’s kind of retro in its look, but it was easy to get past all scanners. The nuke in my trunk was a little harder to conceal, but the LOMSD has quite a few tricks up their sleeve lately and helped me on that front.”

The General’s vision began to darken and he slumped onto his side. “You’ll…rot…in Hell.”

“Probably, but I’m sure I’ll have some good company there,” Lafonte said, kneeling next to Fitzroy while he depressed the button, holding it in. “Goodbye, General.”

The General spat a wad of bloody mucus in Lafonte’s face. “Fuck…” But his breath was gone before he could finish.

***

“Colonel Masterson?”

“Yes, Private Nester?”

“Um, Geiger sensors just went through the roof!”

“Geiger? You mean nuclear?”

“Yes, sir. Something just activated!”

Blue didn’t hesitate for a second, raising his arms above his head. “Everyone on me now! Hold on!”

The Techs, four of them, all de-ported and rushed for Blue, personal space issues pushed aside as they grabbed onto the Colonel wherever they could. Every ounce of BC in the room began to vibrate then rushed towards the huddled group.

***

“God save the King!” Lafonte whispered as he let go of the button, detonating the compact nuclear device hidden in his trunk.

Chapter Nine

Mr. Stone crouched on the river bank, holding his throbbing head in his hands as Reginald watched the last of the three Spiders slip into the Thames.

“You alright, Mr. Stone?” Reginald asked, glancing back at his partner. “Can I get you an aspirin?”

Mr. Stone grinned despite his discomfort. “Yes, Reginald, please. And could you put that aspirin at the bottom of a nice bottle of gin?”

“I believe that can be…” Reginald trailed off as the night sky was lit by a brilliant flash, then followed by the undeniable signature mushroom cloud and fireball of a nuclear detonation far off in the distance. “Sweet God, Stone. They actually did it!”

Mr. Stone got to his feet and turned towards the spectacle in the sky. “It’s a brave new world now, Reginald.” He winced and closed his eyes. “Ugh, too bright. How about that aspirin?”

***

“What is that?” Melissa asked, watching the far off mushroom cloud illuminate the night sky.

Billy emerged from the boat’s cabin as Beth helped Heather to her feet. The two Ghosts exchanged a worried glance and Billy stepped back into the cabin to check the holocast.

“That’s nuclear,” Heather said.

“What?” Beth asked, shocked. “From where?”

“The American BOP in Suffolk,” Billy said, his face drawn. “It’s all over the holos. They’re saying religious extremists have targeted American bases all over Europe.”

“What?” Heather cried. “All of them?”

Billy nodded gravely.

“What does that mean?” Melissa asked, her voice that of a normal scared seventeen-year-old and not the Ghost in training. “Are they all dead? Are we alone?”

“Don’t know yet,” Billy answered. “Reports are still sketchy. There’s a chance the Russian base survived.”

“That’s good,” Heather said. “If any base survived, I’m glad it’s Russia. That’ll help us a lot.”

“That’s good? THAT’S GOOD?” Melissa roared. “HOW THE FUCK IS THAT GOOD?”

Heather pushed Beth aside and got right in Melissa’s face. “Calm the fuck down Mel! This is not the time to freak out! This is the time you gear down and show what you are made of! You want to be a Ghost? You want me to activate you? Then take a deep breath and grow a fucking pair!”

Melissa withered under the tongue lashing and her eyes began to well with tears.

“Don’t you dare fucking cry!” Heather shouted, poking Melissa in the chest. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

Melissa took several deep breaths, forcing herself to get it together. “Sorry.”

“You fucking should be,” Heather said, sitting heavily on the deck of the boat.

“Are you, um, we really alone?” Beth asked.

“No, I doubt it,” Heather replied. “There are plenty of Ghosts on assignment. Not to mention FCUs out in the field. We aren’t alone. We’re just divided.”

“Which means the conquer part is coming fast,” Billy said, leaning against the cabin door. “It wasn’t extremists. Had to be LOM.”

“Why?” Melissa asked. “Why would the LOM want to destroy us?”

“Now who’s being dense?” Beth said. “No Americans, no force strong enough to stop them.”

“Stop them from what, though,” Heather mused. She patted the case. “You think it has to do with this?” She looked over at Beth. “And her?”

Billy shrugged. “No way to say. The good side is everywhere we go it’s going to be complete chaos. Easy to hide and not get noticed in chaos.”

“I hope so,” Heather sighed.

***

“Your Highness?” Sasha Vernakova, steward to Prince Alexander Tartarov, the next in line to the Russian throne, barked loudly. “Prince Alexander?”

The young prince stirred, but did not wake. His head lay face down on his writing desk, drool pooled about his cheek and nose. Discarded vodka bottles littered the floor and the distinct smell of vomit and excrement permeated the chambers.

Sasha sniffed the air and frowned. “You’ve shat yourself again.”

The steward tried not to gag as he hefted the unconscious prince over his shoulders and carried him towards the bathroom. Alexander let loose a voluminous belch and the sound of liquid splashing onto the marble floors made Sasha grimace.

“I swear to God, Alexander,” Sasha growled. “If you just vomited down my back I will personally drown you in the canal.”

Sasha dumped the prince quite unceremoniously, and fully clothed, into the ornate bathtub and turned both handles to full, then stepped back. Within seconds Alexander began to stir then struggle, finally kicking and thrashing as the water splashed about him.

“What the hell, Sasha?” Alexander shouted. “I’ve ordered you over and over not to do this!”

“And I, Your Highness, have told you over and over that you need to stop being a fucking drunk piece of shit,” Sahsa said boldly, shoving the prince back into the tub each time he attempted to pull himself out. “You are going to stay in there until you are washed, rinsed and clean. You have a meeting with VIPs in an hour. I know it’s late, but it appears there has been some trouble with the Americans that may concern us all. Reports are incomplete, but I do hope to have more information soon. Remember how tenuous your place here in Amsterdam is? You don’t have many options, especially with your current state of exile. You need to be ready for this meeting.”

Alexander wiped the water from his face and glared at his steward. “I could kill you right now for your insolence, you know that, don’t you?”

“Then who would get the shit stains out of your britches?” Sasha said, walking out of the steamy bathroom.

“I’d find someone!” Alexander shouted after Sasha. “There are plenty of people that would jump at the privilege to lick my ass clean!” The prince slowly, and painfully due to the now raging headache he had, began to undress, tossing his soiled clothes onto the tiled floor. “Plenty of people…”

***

“What’s special about Russia?” Beth asked Heather as she settled down on the deck next to her while Melissa and Billy scoured the holocasts trying to find as much information as possible on the attacks and the status of the Americans.

“The Russian throne is held by Her Highness, Empress Natalya Tartarov,” Heather began. “Her mother was American, full-blooded and quite the Ghost in her day.”

“American? I never heard that,” Beth said.

“Yes, well, she died when Natalya was three and the twin princes, Alexander and Vasily, were only infants,” Heather replied. “The Emperor was devastated and believed it was a conspiracy. He forbade any mention of his children’s birthright, lest it bring violence towards them. It’s been all but forgotten now.”

“So why is it good?” Beth pressed. “Surely the Empress would want to distance herself as much as possible from the Americans considering all that is happening.”

“The Empress might, yes. But the princes?” Heather grinned. “They are a different story. They are fully trained Ghosts. Their American DNA gave them the birthright and their mother chose for them to be altered in vitro so they could have full BC manipulation. She didn’t with Natalya and that has always gotten under the Empress’s skin.”

***

Prince Vasily flung open the great doors to the royal court and stormed towards the massive meeting table that had been placed in the center while the Cabinet convened.

“Vasily!” Empress Natalya exclaimed, standing and extending her hands. “Thank you for joining us. I know it is short notice, but considering the circumstances…”

The slap came hard and fast and most in the room had no idea what had happened until the royal guard tackled the prince and pinned him to the marble floor.

“You fucking bitch!” Vasily shouted. “How could you?”

The Empress pressed her hand against her cheek as a red welt formed in the shape of Vasily’s hand. “Would you all excuse us, please?” she ordered in a very calm, very cold voice. “My brother and I need to speak alone.”

The Cabinet members stood and bowed, exiting as quickly as possible.

“Everyone!” Natalya shouted, glaring at the guards. Reluctantly they left their posts, closing the doors behind them.

Vasily pushed himself to his feet, rolling his neck and rubbing his arms where the guards had grabbed him. He stood a good foot above his sister, but the look on her face instantly reminded him who was in power. “I apologize, sister. My emotions got the better of me.”

“I should say they did!” she hissed. “In front of the Cabinet? What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking why my sister had lied to me,” Vasily said, venom returning to his voice. “Why she had promised to protect the Americans here on Russian soil, but I still receive word that the American base has been destroyed and that not a single FCU can be accounted for.” Vasily stepped closer, but made no sudden moves, well aware that they were being watched on security holo. “You knew all along the LOMSD was going to wipe them out and you did nothing. American blood, our blood, is on your hands!”

The Empress took her seat and waved at the prince dismissively. “You’re a dreamer, Vas. You always have been.” She poured a glass of water, sipping leisurely from it. “I always thought that twins were opposites. But, between you and Alex, Russia has enough dreams to last a life time.”

“Please don’t compare me to that drunkard,” Vasily spat. “He left us and has no rights in this court. I stayed to help you secure our place when Father died! You should have shown me more respect!”

Natalya set the water glass down, her eyes as cold as a frozen Russian winter. “Respect, Vas? Respect? Did the Americans show us respect when St. Petersburg was besieged by General Korkov’s forces? Did the Americans show us respect when we pleaded for their intervention to help alleviate the suffering as hundreds of thousands died from starvation while the general feasted on his countryside spoils? Did the Americans respect us when we finally defeated Korkov and we asked for assistance in rebuilding the Empire?”

“No, of course not,” Vasily said. “But, that is not their place. They are to remain a neutral force throughout—”

“Damn their neutrality!” Natalya roared. “My husband died because of their neutrality! My one true love! Do you understand what that means in royal circles, Vas? Do you understand how rare it is to find love with someone worthy of our class? It is near impossible! And they let that love die!” The Empress stomped to the wide windows looking out into the night, her hands gesturing widely. “They respect nothing but their own survival! Well, now they get all the respect they deserve! Now they get to truly survive!”

Prince Vasily stared at his sister for a moment, waiting for her to calm down. Once she had regained her composure he crossed to her, taking her hands in his. “Many of those men and women were my friends, Nat. You know how closely I have worked with the Americans. How long I have trained with them, making sure that our American blood was never in doubt or went to waste. All I needed was the truth, Nat. That’s all. I would have mourned their loss, but I never would have gone against you. You should have told me.”

The Empress pulled her hands free. “Yes, well, that would have presented certain problems in and of itself, wouldn’t it?” She activated her com. “Bring him in.”

The great doors opened and two guards dragged in a beaten and bloodied young man. Vasily gasped. “Nat? What have you done?”

“What needed to be done, dear brother,” the Empress sneered. “Protect Mother Russia from its enemies.”

As the guards tossed the man to the floor, and were dismissed by the Empress, Vasily rushed across the room, kneeling quickly and taking the man’s head into his lap. “Peter? Peter, can you hear me?”

Peter’s face was a mass of bruises and cuts, some looking to have healed and reopened. Both eyes were swollen shut, one appeared to almost be deflated behind the purple lid. “Why, Nat? WHY?” Vasily shouted, grief stricken.

“I needed to know how much pillow talk happens between you and your American boy,” the Empress scowled. “And judging by what he finally told us, you two talk a lot. Is the sex really that good, Vas? So good you would betray State secrets to an outsider? And an American no less!”

Vasily struggled to keep his calm, struggled to not let his sister get the best of him. He kissed his lover’s forehead and carefully let Peter’s head settle onto the tile. Getting to his feet, he straightened his uniform, wiped at his eyes and walked slowly to the table. “What do you want from me, Natalya?”

“Nothing,” she said with a wicked smile. “I want nothing of you. It’s Alex that I need.”

Vasily frowned. “Alex? Why?”

“Don’t be naive, Vasily,” Natalya scolded. “You know Alexander has, well, certain abilities with biochrome design that could make him very valuable if they became common knowledge.”

Vasily just glared.

The Empress sighed and continued. “I have been begging him for weeks to come home and he refuses. He never has cared for me much, really, but you, Vas, well, you are his other half. He’d do anything for you.”

The doors opened once again and Vasily turned to see Mikhail Malikev, the warden of the royal prison, flanked by a dozen guards. The prince’s eyes went wide in disbelief and he spun on his sister. “You’re mad! You can’t imprison me!”

“I can. I will, then I’ll tell Alex,” Natalya sneered. “And he’ll come to save his brother. Save him from the evil, evil big sister that never understood him.” She snapped her fingers and before Vasily could move, he was hit with 10,000 volts from the guards’ stun pistols, dropping him to the floor in a twitching heap. “Don’t do any permanent damage, Mikhail. Just superficial enough to bring my brother running.”

Warden Malikev nodded and followed behind his guards as they carried the prince away.

“Call the Cabinet members back,” the Empress said into her com. “We still have much work to do.”

Chapter Ten

Both Billy and Melissa could feel their presence before the sensors began to warn of their proximity.

“Fucking Spiders,” Billy growled. “Those motherfucking LOM sons of bitches.”

Melissa dashed from the cabin, but seeing Heather peering out into the night water, she knew her aunt could feel them too.

“How far away?” Heather asked, straining her senses to see if she could pick up anything. “They’re pretty close, huh?”

“We’ve got maybe ten minutes at the most,” Billy called from the cabin. “Hang on!”

Heather and the girls barely had time to grab onto something before Billy pushed the throttle to full.

“This thing better be as fast as you say it is!” Heather shouted.

“It is! Except I didn’t think we’d be running from Spiders!” he shouted back. “I’m heading straight for the shore! We’re only half a kilometer from the Netherlands’ coastline!”

Beth turned towards the direction the boat was heading and could see the twinkling of lights from a small harbor. In a moment they passed the first buoy.

“Doesn’t that mean the water is shallow?” she yelled, leaning inside the cabin. “What about the boat?”

“Don’t worry!” Billy grinned. “I’ve flattened the hull! We’re skimming right now!”

Heather grabbed a spotlight, shining it behind her, searching the water for signs of the Spiders. “If they come from below, we’re fucked!”

“Great! This is just fucking great!” Melissa complained. “Just toss the case overboard! That’s what they want, right? It’ll save us all!”

Heather reared on her niece. “This is why I haven’t activated you!” she shouted. “I have a mission! And I will complete that mission! Until you understand the importance of that, you’ll never be an active Ghost!” Heather thought she saw something cutting through the wake. “There! They’re almost on us, Billy!”

“We’re at full throttle already!” Billy watched the harbor grow closer. He saw several docks they could pull up to, but the time it would take to keep from crashing was time they didn’t have. His eyes found a small beach straight ahead. “We’re going to have to do a rolling tumble!”

“Shit,” Heather cursed under her breath. “Fine. You win, Melissa.”

“What? But you just said…?” Melissa stuttered.

“I know what I fucking said! Do you want to be activated or not goddamn it?!?”

Melissa’s face split into a huge grin. “Yes! Of course! Yes!”

Heather grabbed her by the arms and leaned in close, her lips touching Melissa’s ear. “It’ll be over in less than a minute, but you have to be strong. Remember everything I taught you. Center yourself, find your gift, but don’t let go or you’re lost forever.”

Heather felt Melissa nod and she took a deep breath, said a silent prayer, then whispered, “Perfect posies prance one time. Imperfect posies can eat shit and die.”

Instantly Melissa’s eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed to the deck.

“What’s wrong with her?” Beth called. “Is she having a seizure?”

Heather held up her hand and Beth went quiet.

“Come on, girl. Fight it,” Heather said. “You can do this.”

Melissa’s face contorted into a rictus of pain, then went slack.

“Is she…?” Beth asked.

“Shhh!” Heather ordered, her eyes never leaving her niece’s face.

Melissa rolled over suddenly and vomited onto the deck. She shook her head, and with Beth and Heather’s help, got to her feet.

“You okay?” Heather asked cautiously.

“Yeah,” Melissa responded. “I’m fine. I’m great actually.”

Heather waited for a moment. “Well?”

Melissa looked at her hands, then grabbed onto the side of the boat. “I’m ready.”

“Good,” Heather nodded. “I have Beth. I should be able to keep her from getting hurt. You’ll have to take your lumps on your own.”

Melissa nodded and looked towards the beach.

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Beth demanded.

“You are going to grab onto me,” Heather instructed. “Right now. When we hit that beach, do not let go. That is your only job. Got it?”

“Hit the beach? Wait…what?”

An ear piercing shriek made them all turn towards the bow.

“Billy! They’re here!” Heather shouted as the first Spider breached the water, its long BC legs reaching for them.

“So are we! Hang on!” Billy shouted back as the boat rocketed from the surf and slammed onto solid ground.

***

“Wake up, Brian,” the woman said. “Time to go to work.”

Brian wanted so desperately to play possum, to feign unconsciousness and stall. But, he knew that wouldn’t work. Not with her.

“I can’t see anything right now,” Brian said hoarsely.

“Someone’s got a frog in his throat,” the woman laughed. “Do you need some water?”

“No!” Brian cried. “No, no more water. I’m fine.”

“No, Brian, you are not fine,” the woman said, all trace of laughter gone now. “You have never been fine and you will never be fine. Time you accepted that.”

Brian didn’t know how to respond, so he stayed quiet.

“Cat got your tongue?” the woman asked. “Too bad. I was going to take it for myself.”

Intense pain seared into both sides of his head and Brian found that he couldn’t turn his neck, couldn’t even so much as nod. The canvas was pulled up from his mouth and metal pinchers were thrust between his lips, prying his jaw open.

“Oh! Ahhh!,” Brian tried to scream.

“Shhhh, now,” the woman cooed. “Hard to cut when you keep wiggling that thing about.”

Brian could feel the cold blade press down on his tongue and he tried to move it away.

“Now you’re just being difficult,” the woman said.

Piercing pain exploded in Brian’s tongue and he cried out.

“Do you think you may want to cooperate now?” the woman asked, removing the pinchers. “As long as you talk, you keep your tongue. As soon as you have nothing left to say, you lose it.”

“Fine!” Brian yelled. “Fine. I’ll try to see something!”

“Try hard, Brian,” the woman said. “Try very hard.”

***

Beth’s world exploded.

She felt Heather grab her and she did the same, clutching to the woman as if her life depended on it, which it did.

She could hear Billy yelling and Heather shouting back as everything spun about her.

Then she hit. And couldn’t breathe.

***

Brian groaned.

“What is it?” the woman asked.

“I don’t know,” Brian said weakly. “There were lights, then it all spun away. Now nothing.”

Brian felt the woman’s hands pressing on his head. “Nothing isn’t good, Brian. Try harder!”

***

“Get up!” Heather shouted, pulling Beth to her feet. “Get behind me!”

“There’s three of them!” Billy called out from further down the beach. “Leave her, Heather! We need weapons!”

“Weapons? What good will they do against Spiders?” Melissa shouted, new knowledge streaming into her consciousness. Everything she had learned over the years, had been trained for, was now at her disposal. But all the knowledge in the world couldn’t take away the fear. She winced as she put pressure on her right ankle, but knew it wasn’t the time to be weak. “They’re gonna rip us apart!”

The bit of lamp light illuminating the harbor reflected off the bodies of three biochrome monstrosities. They had solid bodies, approximately twice the size of an adult coffin, long and smooth, with eight multi-jointed legs positioned symmetrically about the body, each ending in four articulated, claw-like digits.

Heather dashed to the wreckage of the boat, grabbing whatever BC she could and began to fashion something, anything that could be used for defense.

“What are those machines?” Beth shouted, staying close to Heather.

“They aren’t machines!” Heather responded. “There are people in those things! At least they used to be people!”

“Jesus! How do we go through life not hearing stuff like this?” Beth yelled.

“Because you do as you’re told and don’t stray from the path!”

Heather said. “Good thing, too! Spiders are for extermination only. Wholesale extermination! They destroy entire towns in hours! They are supposedly unstoppable!” Heather tossed a long pole with two small hooks on the end to Beth, keeping one for herself. “But, unstoppable is my specialty!”

***

“It’s dark again,” Brian stated. “There’s some light, like from torches maybe, but it’s hard to see.”

“Try harder,” the woman growled.

“I am!” Brian exclaimed. He concentrated on the images flashing before him. He thought he saw water. And he could hear shouting. And a smell. Of course, it wasn’t really a smell, but that was how he interpreted it. “Spiders?”

“What did you say?” the woman asked, true concern in her voice. “What did you just say, Brian?”

“Spiders,” he answered. “I think there are Spiders close. Real close.”

***

Beth felt the dizziness come on quickly. She thought maybe she had hit her head when they jumped from the boat, which she did, but she quickly realized the dizziness wasn’t from hitting her head. It was inside her head.

“You okay?” Heather yelled, catching her as she stumbled slightly. “What’s wrong?”

Beth shook her head. “I don’t know. My head hurts.”

“No time for headaches, freak!” Melissa shouted over at her as Heather tossed her a hooked spear. “Not unless you want to be Spider food!”

Beth stumbled again and this time fell to one knee. Heather yanked at her arm, bringing her back to her feet.

“Get down behind the wreckage! Stay put!” Heather yelled.

“I…I…can’t,” Beth gasped, her head pounding, her chest hitching. “I can’t… think… I’m… not me…” She fell to the beach, her stomach lurching.

***

“I’m hurting her!” Brian yelled. “She can’t move!”

“You can’t hurt her!” the woman shouted. “Only help her!”

The slap came hard and swift and Brian’s head rocked back, his mind’s eye clearing a bit.

“Help her, Goddamn it!” the woman screamed. “Help her, Brian!”

***

“I’ve got her! You and Mel take out those Spiders!” Billy shouted. “I’m useless in combat anyway!” Lifting her under the arms, Billy pulled Beth across the rough beach of coarse sand and broken shells, over to the wreckage of the boat. He plopped her down, shielding her body as much as possible as he looked at the BC before him, trying to work out what he could create to help the fight. “Okay, okay,” he mumbled. “You can do this Billy. You can do this.” He reached in his pocket for more scabs, needing another fix, hoping to clear away the stress, but his hand came away empty. “Shit fuck!”

***

Brian’s head rocked back again from another slap then another and another.

“STOP!” he screamed. “Stop it!”

“Then help her, or you die!” the woman shouted, gripping Brian’s head in her hands, squeezing until he thought his cheekbones would crack. “You’re a Ghost for fuck’s sake! Help her, or we both die!”

Brian couldn’t comprehend that last statement. He couldn’t grasp the context or meaning, but something in the statement rang true anyway and he focused his will on the other person, on the girl whose eyes he was seeing through.

I’m a Ghost for fuck’s sake!, he thought.

***

A Spider reared up on its back legs, towering over the boat wreckage, its front four claws wide and reaching for Billy and Beth. Billy pulled Beth closer to him, wrapping her in his arms, pressing her to his chest. “Don’t look.”

“NO!” she yelled, shoving him away.

Billy fell back onto his haunches, his eyes torn between the Spider and Beth. Beth, whose eyes blazed with fury and determination.

“I’m a Ghost for fuck’s sake!” she screamed, getting to her feet, holding her left hand down and back, her fingers flexing and releasing, flexing and releasing, as she started to circle to the right. The Spider watched Beth, although it had no eyes to speak of, following her movements.

“Beth…?” Billy whispered, but his attention was drawn away as the beach began to brighten. Billy feared to look away from the BC beasts, but he couldn’t help a quick glance as he saw first the wreckage, then any BC within fifty feet of Beth begin to glow.

A second Spider pushed past the first, its attention focused on Billy.

“NO!” Beth shouted, her right hand coming down and back also, flexing, releasing, flexing, releasing, her body in perfect symmetry. “He’s not for you!”

***

“Tell me what you see, Brian!” the woman demanded. “Tell me how you are helping her!”

“I see the Spiders,” Brian stammered. “On a…beach? I see a man. He’s on the ground. Something about him. A Ghost? No, not anymore. Well, maybe… How do I know this?”

“Doesn’t matter,” the woman said. “Concentrate on the Spiders. The man is of no consequence right now.”

“The Spiders…” Brian trailed off.

The woman slapped him again. Hard. “Focus!”

“Okay, okay,” Brian said. “Two Spiders are facing me. They should have attacked by now. Why haven’t they attacked?”

“Because you are helping her,” the woman coaxed. “Because you can stop them.”

“Right. Because I’m a Ghost for fuck’s sake!” Brian yelled.

“Yes,” the woman agreed. “Yes, you are a Ghost. Help her.”

***

The two BC monsters swayed before Beth, both rearing back, ready to strike. Faintly, as if in another world, she could hear Melissa and Heather struggling against the third Spider. Beth fought to keep the two Spiders’ attention focused on her.

“Help me!” Beth shouted.

“How, Beth?” Billy asked, his eyes never leaving the Spiders, his legs refusing to move, to stand.

“You know shit, right? How vehicles are built?” she asked taking a step forward. The Spiders matched her, each taking a step back. “These are like vehicles. Where is their weak spot?”

Billy didn’t have to think, he knew the answer immediately. “I don’t know, Beth. I’ve never seen the schematics for a Spider. That tech is kept under lock and key.”

Beth squared her shoulders. “There has to be something.”

The first Spider lashed out with its front most leg, the claw slicing the air just centimeters from Beth’s face.

“NO!” she screamed and the Spider’s claw warped, wrapping in upon itself until it was just a hunk of BC, not the deadly weapon it was intended to be.

“How did you do that?” Billy asked in awe.

“I don’t know,” Beth answered. “Give me a weak spot, Billy. Find me something.”

***

“Spiders do have weak spots,” the woman said. “You know they do.”

“What?” Brian cried. “I don’t know a bloody thing about Spiders!”

“No, not Spiders specifically,” the woman said. “But, you’re a Ghost for fuck’s sake, remember? You know BC. You know what to do.”

***

The beach swam before Beth’s eyes and she believed she’d pass out from the dizziness. She shook her head to clear it, and the Spiders made their move.

The first came at her straight on, claws slashing. The second circled around, completely ignoring Billy, and tried to flank her. Beth fell to her knees, just barely ducking a lethal swipe of a claw. Her left knee slammed against one of the many sharp rocks covering the ground and pain shot up her thigh. A claw slammed down next to her and she instinctively reached out and grabbed onto the leg, instantly being lifted high into the air as the leg was pulled back. She scrambled quickly and found herself perched upon the Spider’s back.

“Hang on!” Billy shouted, getting to his feet, separating a length of BC from the wreckage and fashioning it into a spear, similar to what Heather had done.

“Wasn’t planning on letting go!” Beth shouted back, fighting the swirling focus-un-focus that was her brain.

Billy lunged at the second Spider, not having a clue as to what he was doing, but the Spider reacted, stepping away from the hooked spear. “That was something! Heather? What the fuck do I do with this thing?”

The Spider Beth was perched upon began to buck and heave, trying to throw her, but she hung on. She dodged a claw as the Spider turned upon itself, desperate to have her off its back. She dodged a second claw, a third claw, watching as the BC claws punctured the shell, the creature’s strength too much for its own good. Beth wasn’t able to dodge a fourth as it embedded into her right thigh, ripping her off and flinging her to the ground.

Billy leapt in front of her, his spear at the ready, but was easily knocked aside and slammed to the ground, his head crashing against the rocks, leaving him in an unconscious heap.

The crippled Spider spun around and around, trying to dislodge its own claws from its back while the second Spider surged forward, looming over Beth, each arm and claw looking like a chrome version of Death’s scythe.

“No,” Beth whispered, gritting her teeth against the pain from her thigh. “I don’t die like this.”

***

“Come on, Brian! You’re losing her!” the woman yelled.

Brian concentrated. He thought of everything he had learned over the years, everything drilled into him to prepare him to be a Ghost. But, nothing came to the surface. No answers or solutions. It was if what he needed to know was submerged under meters of water.

Meters of water…

Water.

Brian smiled.

***

Beth watched the Spider poise to strike, its claws reflecting the small amount of light provided by the nearby docks.

Water.

A single word echoed in her mind. She puzzled at why she would think about water when she was about to die.

Then it hit her. Biochcrome was metal and metal wasn’t a solid, but a liquid in solid form.

And like that the Spider was no more. Its huge form was gone, dissolved into a pool of BC that washed over her and Billy. A naked, malformed, pink body lay in the middle of the BC, its eyes blind, its mouth opening and closing, opening and closing. Its legs had been amputated at the knees and its arms were just short stubs with no hands, two finger-like appendages sticking from the end. The thing let out a long, slow, dying breath and then it was still.

Beth stared at the creature, wiping liquid BC from her clothes. She scrambled over to Billy, her thigh screaming agony, and rolled him over, terrified of what she would see. But, to her relief, Billy’s eyes fluttered open, found her and then closed once more. Beth hugged him tightly, watching the other Spider still struggle against itself.

***

“You did it, Brian,” the woman whispered in his ear.

Brian wept quietly. He tried not to, tried to suck the tears back in, to control the light sobs that escaped his lips. “I don’t understand what is happening.”

“No, Brian, you don’t,” the woman said coldly. “And we still have a long way to go before you do.”

Brian felt the cold metal of the blade against a knuckle and he screamed as the knife sliced through his flesh.

***

Beth shuddered and looked down at her hand as pain flared in one of her knuckles then dissipated.

“You okay?” Melissa asked, kneeling next to her and Billy, while Heather engaged the wounded Spider. “We got ours. Heather’ll take care of that last one.”

Melissa looked at Beth’s thigh and gasped. “Jesus! That’s got to hurt!”

Beth looked down at the blood pouring from her wound and furrowed her brow. “I don’t… I don’t even feel it.”

“That would be shock,” Melissa said, looking about her for BC to close the wound. Her eyes went wide when she realized they were all in the middle of a pool of BC. “What the fuck…?”

But her attention was quickly drawn away as the death screams of the last Spider echoed across the harbor. Beth and Melissa looked over as the BC creature fell to the ground, Heather’s spear sticking from its abdomen. The Ghost wiped her hands on her chest, then turned to the others, smiling broadly. That smile quickly faded as she saw first Billy and Beth, then the BC surrounding them. “What the fuck happened here?”

***

“Gentlemen! And Ladies!” Alexander announced as he entered the VIP room. “Thank you for coming. I do apologize for being late.”

“With your reputation,” a squat, dark skinned man said. “We’re surprised you even showed.”

The six others, four men and two women, all laughed. Alexander grinned and slapped the squat man on the shoulder. “Fair enough, Timon. Fair enough. But if we are going on reputation, then you all know I have capabilities to make… well, things happen.”

“Yes,” an elegant, white haired woman said. “Which is why we are all here at this ungodly hour, Alex.”

“That is ‘Your Highness’ or ‘My Lord’ to you,” Sasha scolded, ushering the waitresses out of the room as soon as they finished setting the guests’ third drink order before them. He shut the double doors behind him as he nodded to the prince. “All swept and clear. You may speak freely. I have alerted security that the meeting is in progress and you are not to be disturbed…Your Highness.”

Alexander gave Sasha a wink and turned back to his audience. “Yes, the hour is late, so let’s get to the point.” The lights dimmed and a holo of a bright blue sky was projected into the middle of the room. “Flight. It’s outlawed and punishable by death or by banishment into the Dead Zone. Over the centuries we have been given many reasons why: atmospheric chaos, military concerns, American regulation, lack of decent technology. Neither the LOM, nor the Americans, have ever given the public a solid reason other than ‘We Say So’. But there is one thing we all know and that is the law is rigorously enforced.”

“Then why bring it up?” a middle-aged Brit asked, his mouth smiling, but his eyes cold. “Any aircraft would be shot down within seconds of attaining altitude above the legal hover ceiling. You’re wasting our time.”

The prince laughed and poured himself a drink. “Anyone care for something?” They all glared. “Oh, yes, you have yours… Very well, Julian, last week I would have agreed with you. But, this week…”

The holo changed perspectives to a grand estate. The image circled a great old castle three times then came in close and settled before the main entrance on the large gravel drive.

“That’s Wildshire Downs!” the Brit exclaimed. “How did you do that? Satellite images combined with crane work?”

“Please, Julian, you’re being dense,” Alex grinned. The image switched immediately to a waving Prince Alexander standing in the empty drive. With a flourish of his hands the air behind him shimmered, then was filled with a large aircraft. The sun glinted off the reflective biochrome. Everyone in the room gasped.

“That has to be fake!” Timon said. “Special effects any ten-year-old could do.”

“Which is why I have prepared a demonstration,” Alex’s grin grew wider and he downed his drink in one gulp. “If you’ll follow me to the roof, I’ll show you all that it is very real. You may leave your drinks. Refreshments will be provided on board.”

“On board?” Julian asked.

Alex didn’t answer, only smiled.

***

Sirens could be heard in the distance and Heather yanked Billy to his feet giving him a good, hard slap. “Wake up, scabhead! We gotta go!”

Billy staggered a bit, then found his balance, his hand going to his cheek. “Did you really need to do that?”

“Want another?” Heather glared. “Great job protecting her.”

Heather knelt next to Melissa and Beth, admiring the BC stitch work. “You’re learning fast,” Heather smiled at Mel.

“Thanks. It’s all still a little fuzzy, but the skills are coming together,” Melissa responded, helping Beth to her feet, putting the wounded girl’s arm around her shoulders. “Couple more hours and we should know what special skill set I have.”

“I look forward to finding out,” Heather nodded. “But for now we need to get the fuck off this beach.”

“How far do you think we are from Amsterdam?” Beth whispered.

“Billy?” Heather asked, glancing at the still groggy junkie.

“Um, not sure,” Billy said, shaking his head. “I’m guessing just a few kilometers. Get me somewhere where I can focus and I’ll make us a hydro-skiff so we can take the canals.”

***

“There’s nothing here, Alexander,” Timon growled as the group stepped onto the nightclub’s roof. Sasha cleared his throat and Timon rolled his eyes. “Your Highness.”

Alex smiled and snapped his fingers. “Mr. Styles? If you please.”

The space before them began to shimmer and warp and almost instantly was filled with the same aircraft from the holo.

The vehicle was pure BC: shiny, reflective and sleek. It was long, over fifteen meters, and the wings were short and brushed back, giving the impression of a moth’s wings at rest. It stood seven meters high with a meter of empty space beneath it. Except for the open cockpit on the side, there wasn’t a single window. In that cockpit door stood a strikingly handsome man, late thirties, with a wide grin on his face and an equally wide cowboy hat on his head.

“Howdy, y’all. Captain Edgar Styles at your service.” Styles gave a quick salute, then leapt from the cockpit and walked briskly to the group, his hand extended. “Glad to meet ya. Y’all ready for a ride?”

The group looked from Alex to each other, stunned.

“Is this guy for real?” Timon asked.

“As real as a heart attack, pard.” Styles winked.

“As real as a heart attack,” Alex laughed.

***

“Valerie Adams here, live from what was the site of the American Base in Suffolk,” Valerie said into the holo cam, her body covered from head to toe in a protective suit, her face obscured by the clear face mask which was quickly fogging up. “As you can see behind me, the devastation is horrendous. And quite dangerous as the radiation levels are lethal and the LOM has sent in its Atmospheric Containment Agency to control any fallout. While the ACA has declined to speak with us, rightly so since they are quite busy, we have been told that similar operations are in progress at bases, or former bases now, in Spain, France, the Holy Roman Empire and anywhere an attack has been…” Her head cocked, Valerie listened intently for a moment. “Folks, it has come to my attention that all American bases have been destroyed! Also, it appears that the American Family Combat Units that are embedded in each Monarchy are under assault or have been executed. We are trying to learn more as we speak, but it appears that the long thought defunct terrorist sect, El Rojo Muerte, or The Red Death, has claimed responsibility…”

Mr. Brown Eyes switched off the holo. “Seems like the story is holding strong.”

“We have complete control of all media at the moment,” Mr. Plain smiled. “Even with eyewitness reports circling about, there are so many crackpots out there making huge claims no one knows who to believe.”

“Where are we with actual containment of the FCUs?” Mr. Continental asked.

“Reports indicate there are a few individual stragglers still unaccounted for, but we are close to a 97% extermination rate,” Mr. Plain answered. “That includes all known Ghosts.”

“Ghosts as well?” Mr. Brown Eyes asked, surprised. “That is well ahead of schedule.”

“They didn’t see it coming,” Mr. Plain grinned. “We caught all of them completely off guard.”

“How very un-American,” Mr. Brown Eyes laughed and the others joined him.

“Are all the Monarchs ready to make their statements when ordered?” Mr. Continental asked.

“They are and none are the wiser,” Mr. Plain replied. “We are right on target.”

***

Charlie Masterson watched from the hillside as the LOM ACA units put their massive atmospheric processors into place. He knew once they turned those on and their energy shields were activated, he wouldn’t stand a chance of getting into the blast site to retrieve his father. Charlie smiled at the thought of his father, Blue, and how that son of a bitch seemed stronger than a cockroach and ten times as resilient.

Charlie was pretty impressed with himself for escaping a LOMSD ambush without a scratch. Only he and Tolson had made it out. He tried to get Tolson to come with him, but the woman was more concerned with tracking down her own family, which was to be understood.

But, looking down on the scorched crater that was once the base he grew up in, he couldn’t help but smile with respect that somewhere down there his father was still alive. Or at least had been alive long enough to activate his secure beacon before the radiation fouled the signal.

Charlie kept watching the ACA, and their accompanying LOMSD guards, and hoped he could find the weak spot, the way in, soon. He melted back into the shadows, his custom Shock suit reflecting the scenery about, making him almost invisible to the naked eye, while his suit’s jamming tech made him completely undetectable by sensors. He may not have been a Ghost like his father, but he was one tough Shock trooper.

***

“Now ladies and gentlemen,” Styles called over the com from the cockpit. “In your seats you will see two shoulder straps and a lap belt. If you would be so kind as to secure yourselves I’ll really give you a demonstration of what this baby can do.”

The VIPs looked at each other, eyes wide in amazement as they sat inside what Styles had called the “BTT”. Most were annoyed that he wouldn’t elaborate as to what the B, T or T stood for, but those thoughts were gone the second they lifted off from the nightclub roof and shot out of Amsterdam and over the Channel.

“We will be going faster?” a short, pudgy woman asked, the color of her skin turning a deeper shade of green. “How fast does this go?”

“Mach 2,” Prince Alexander responded, highball glass in hand. “No need to worry. I’ve done this a hundred times. It’s all perfectly safe.”

“All strapped in?” Styles asked, his voice echoing in the passenger cabin. “I’m punching it in five, four, three…” All the VIPs scrambled to secure their harnesses. “…two, one!”

The press of the g-forces as the BTT rocketed into the night shoved the VIPs back into their seats. Alexander laughed, seemingly unaffected.

“Why…aren’t…you…pushed…back,” Timon stuttered, his eyes wide and face white.

“Gravitational stabilizer,” Alex smiled, spinning his finger about, indicating the whole of the cabin. “Something I worked up. Keeps my drink from spilling.”

“Why…isn’t it…working on…us?” the pudgy woman asked.

“Oh, your harnesses counter the effect,” Alex responded, sipping casually from his drink. “I just wanted you to feel the g so you know why you need the stabilizer. It isn’t standard installation and we’ll discuss costs for the extras when we return.”

“Anything else…we should know…about?” Timon asked. “Any other…extras?”

“Plenty,” Alex winked.

***

“Alex?” Styles called over the private com as the aircraft slowed considerably. “Can you come up here?”

“Are we having issues?” Alexander responded, glancing towards the VIPs.

“Not exactly,” Styles responded. “Just get up here.”

Alex smiled and stood up, nodding to the others, but they were all too white knuckled to care. He walked casually to the cockpit door and placed his hand firmly in the middle. The door dissolved and Alexander quickly stepped inside, the door firming behind him. “What, Eddie?”

“Look out there,” Styles said, pointing to the nighttime landscape of England below.

The prince looked down for a moment, puzzled. “What am I looking at, Styles?” he asked impatiently.

“See all those lights? That big crater with all the machinery around it?”

“Yes, so?”

“We’re three kilometers up, Al. Those are big machines!”

Alexander continued looking out the windshield. “I’m not following you.”

“That used to be Suffolk! That’s what’s left of the American Base! Those are atmospheric processors being put into place!” Styles switched on the holocast and a small image formed in the middle of the cockpit. Reports flashed across the holo of the devastation in England and elsewhere. “All hell has gone down! Right when we’re trying to make a fucking sale!”

Alexander sat down, pressing his hand to his forehead.

“What are we going to do, Al?” Styles asked. “I’ve got everything sunk into this project. This shit fails and I’ve got nowhere to go.”

“Just let me think, Eddie, okay? I’ll work it out. I always do.”

Chapter Eleven

“What happened back there?” Heather asked, sitting next to Beth in the small four person hydro-skiff Billy was able to scrap together. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that.”

Beth watched the dark waters of the canal skim by; the lights of Amsterdam’s buildings created shimmering images in the skiff’s wake. Heather watched the girl for a moment, not sure if she had heard the question. Finally Beth turned to her, tears spilling from her eyes.

“I think…,” she sniffed. “I think I’m going crazy.”

Melissa glanced back, about to make a snide remark, but Heather gave her a stern look and she faced forward again.

“How do you mean, Beth?” Heather asked, taking the girl’s hand in hers. Beth’s fingers entwined Heathers and she gripped them with a ferocity that startled Heather.

“I heard…voices,” Beth said. “Or a voice, no…there were two voices. They were yelling. Things were spinning…I wasn’t me…but I was.”

“Has this ever happened before?”

Beth looked at Heather alarmed. “I don’t know. I can’t remember. My past…it’s all fuzzy, like I’m forgetting stuff, like I’m dissolving.”

“We’re here,” Billy announced, cutting the skiff’s drive and piloting the small craft over to a long dock situated in front of a loud nightclub. “Everyone off. He’ll be inside.”

Two large security guards stepped forward, palms out in warning, as they stared down at the bloody, dirt encrusted foursome. “You can’t dock here!” one of them announced.

“It’s okay,” Billy said, hands out in a placating gesture. “We’re on the permanent guest list.”

“Guests? Who you guests of?” the other asked, activating his wrist console.

“Prince Alexander Tartarov,” Heather said, stepping up onto the deck, not waiting for an invitation. “Tell him his wife is here.”

***

“We got another chunk!” a worker shouted from his incident suit. “Good size too!”

“Yeah, scans show that’s the last of it!” his foreman cried. “Crane it to a lorry! I’ll tag it and set the containment. We’ll get it out of here for LOMSD analysis. Then maybe we can shut this site down and get home!”

“You aren’t fucking wrong there, guv!” The worker tapped at his wrist and activated a hover crane. The machine floated above the chunk of BC, dropped a massive set of claws and gripped the chunk firmly. Lifting it onto the last waiting lorry, the man switched his controls off as the foreman took over. “Driver is giving the thumbs up!”

“Then get it the fuck out of here!” the foreman shouted, moving on to the next step for securing the atmospheric processors and getting them online.

The worker gave the all clear sign and the lorry moved slowly from the site, passing through a massive decon unit, then onto a dark road lined with LOMSD troopers. Once a few kilometers away the lorry stopped, pulling onto the shoulder. The passenger door opened and a body was roughly shoved out into the drainage ditch.

Charlie Masterson shut the passenger door, double checked his side and rear vid views and pulled back onto the asphalt, taking a distinctly different direction than the LOMSD analysis facility set up just a mile away.

***

“Ms. Walton, how nice to see you,” Sasha said, meeting the group at the door, the two security guards refusing to let them off the dock and into the nightclub. “Now get in that tiny thing of a boat and go away.”

“Fuck you, Sasha,” Heather grinned with menace. “We need to see Alex. It’s kind of important.”

Sasha rolled his eyes and glanced at the security guards. They quickly made themselves scarce at the far end of the dock. “Oh, I’m sure it is important. I’ve been watching the holocasts. Doesn’t look like a good time for the…” Sasha trailed off as he spotted Billy. “What the hell is that doing here?” he spat. “Haven’t you caused everyone enough damn trouble, you…you…scabhead!”

“Everyone keeps calling me that like it’s an insult with weight,” Billy shrugged. “Trust me, ‘scabhead’ is one of the better names I’ve been given.”

“Oh, I’m sure of that,” Sasha sneered. “I’m surprised Ms. Walton is even with you, considering you killed her sister. And your own brother.”

“Uh hum!” Heather coughed, glaring at Sasha and nodding behind her.

Sasha glanced around Heather and Billy, noticing Beth and Melissa for the first time. “Dear me! Little Mel? Oh, sweetheart! Come here and give Uncle Sasha a big hug!” The steward shoved past Heather and embraced Melissa fiercely. Melissa stiffened and pushed away. “What? You don’t remember me?” He looked at Heather, offended. “She doesn’t remember me?”

“She doesn’t remember a lot from that time, Sasha,” Heather said. “Please. Can we see Alex?”

Sasha ignored Heather’s plea and appraised Beth. “I don’t know you, do I?”

“Sasha!” Heather shouted, causing the security guards to move towards the group. Sasha quickly waved them away.

“His Highness isn’t available at the moment,” he began. Heather opened her mouth instantly to protest. “But I will show you to his suite and you may wait there until he returns.” He grabbed Melissa by the shoulders and smiled. “It is so good to see you, Little One. I’ll have the kitchen make some sandwiches. I believe turkey on rye with extra, extra mayo is your favorite?”

Melissa eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

“Oh, sweetie, I know more about you than apparently you do!” He laughed, took Melissa’s arm and led the group into the nightclub.

“I like turkey,” Billy said.

“You get nothing, junkie!” Sasha snapped as they stepped into the swirling lights and pounding bass of the club.

***

Mr. Stone heard Reginald’s strangled cry just as he stepped into the pub’s WC. He debated whether to go back and help or to try to get through the small alley window in the third stall. He knew, in his gin-addled state, neither decision was a safe one.

“I’m going soft,” he slurred as he walked back into the pub’s barroom.

“Mr. Stone,” Ms. Isely’s voice cackled from a dark corner. “Join us, please.”

Stone instantly noticed the lack of patrons and realized his night had gone from career ending to possible life ending. “I’d rather not.”

“Well, the choice isn’t yours, really,” Ms. Isely smirked.

Mr. Stone stood stock still as his partner’s body was shoved from the booth in the corner and onto the dirty pub floor, a mind spike jutting from his forehead.

Mr. Stone stared at Reginald’s blank eyes, trying to muster up some remorse or regret, but all he felt was numbness. He stumbled to the bar and climbed over it, falling roughly to the ground. With a good deal of effort he pulled himself upright and snatched what would have been his third full bottle of gin from the shelf. After taking several long pulls, he slammed the bottle down.

“Fuck you…”

He promptly vomited.

“I have to say, Mr. Stone,” Ms. Isely grinned. “You’re handling this better than expected.”

***

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Alex announced as he walked back into the cabin. “I regret to inform you that by circumstances well beyond my control our trip this evening will need to come to an end a little sooner than anticipated.”

“We’re not going to fall out of the sky are we?” Julian asked.

“Um, no,” Alex said. “There have been some, well, international incidents that have occurred. We’ll regroup back at the club and go from there.”

“International incidents?” Timon asked. “I haven’t been notified of anything… Hey, my com is not active!”

All the VIPs immediately checked their com status and found their signals blocked.

“What is the meaning of this, Tartarov?” the second woman, a silver haired beauty, demanded. “Pulling another of your scams?”

“Calm down everyone,” Alex placated. “All coms have been blocked so our location could not be tracked from orbit. Hard to explain why your signal is being received at 3,000 meters, don’t you think?” The VIPs all glared, but none argued. “Again, I do apologize and all will be explained once we land.”

***

Beth held her head in her hands as Heather helped her through the doors of Alexander’s private suites. The flashing strobes and thumping, deafening music of the club’s dance floor had nearly pushed her over the edge.

“Will she be alright?” Sasha inquired, issuing the group through two more sets of doors and into a large sitting room with a view of the canal below.

“Sure,” Heather said. “It’s just been a very…long…day…”

“Are you alright?” Sasha asked, but was quickly answered as Heather doubled over and fell to the floor. She was soon retching up more red-black goo, but this time it had an overpowering metallic scent and even seemed to have a bit of a sheen to it beyond just the glistening wetness. “Dear God! I’ll get the physician!”

“No!” Billy shouted. “Don’t Sasha. We can’t have anyone know we’re here!”

“Not to worry, William,” Sasha glared. “Dr. Van Neff is very discrete. He would have to be when dealing with the prince.”

“No, Sasha…” Heather gasped. “Billy is right. No more exposure than we already have. I wouldn’t be surprised if the LOMSD’s satellites haven’t already tracked us here.”

“Please, dear,” Sasha scoffed. “They may have tracked you, but they have no clue you are in this building. His Highness has five square blocks shielded from any and all surveillance. You are perfectly safe.”

“Not if they nuke us,” Melissa said. “They’re not above doing that.”

“Nuke you?” Sasha looked puzzled. “I am sorry, have I missed something?”

Billy laughed. “What’s this? Sasha Vernakova caught off guard? The Great Steward of the Tartarov dynasty isn’t in the know?”

“Quiet, Billy,” Heather scolded, composing herself and taking a glass of water Melissa had fetched. “Sorry about the mess, Sasha.”

“Nothing strange to me, dear,” Sasha rolled his eyes. “And speaking of mess, I think all of you could do with a new wardrobe.” He stepped to the door. “I’ll see what can be scrounged. Still a solid size four?”

“As always,” Heather grinned.

“Now the girls look more like sizes three and one.” Sasha put a hand to his face in mock conspiracy. “Beth, sweetie, eat something please. No one likes a stick.” He winked and left the group alone in the room.

“Is he saying I’m the fat one?” Melissa scowled.

“Hardly,” Billy laughed. “I’ve eaten scabs bigger than you. Speaking of…”

“No, Billy,” Heather said. “You need to be clear.”

“Hard to be clear when it feels like fire ants are crawling under my skin,” he complained. “I lost my stash in our ever so fun boat ride and beach party. I can just pop downstairs right quick. I know someone is holding. Pretty sure I spotted two growers on our way up here. One was pretty cute. She hasn’t gotten too deep yet. Those are always the best.”

“No,” Heather said flatly and Billy shut his mouth, slumping into an overstuffed chair with a toddler pout firmly on his face.

“Are you really married to Prince Alexander Tartarov?” Beth asked quietly.

“Long story, but yes,” Heather frowned. “We never got around to the annulment. It’s not like I get to use the country estate or house on the Riviera.”

“Does Alex even get to?” Billy asked. “Last I heard he was on the outs with his sis, the Empress.” Billy glanced around, appraising the room. “Although he seems to still be doing okay for himself.”

“Yes, well, unlike commoners such as yourself, William,” Alexander announced as he shoved the doors open. “Royalty never really falls far. It’s the privilege of good breeding. But I guess Americans know all about good breeding!” He crossed quickly to Heather and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Wife.”

“Husband,” Heather responded, grinning in spite of herself.

“Ugh! You smell of vomit!” Alex pinched his nose in exaggeration.

“And surprisingly, you don’t,” Heather mocked.

“Well said.” The prince winked and walked over to Melissa. “My dear sweet Mel. You have grown up!”

“Back off, Al,” Billy growled.

“Seriously, William? Do you think me that low?” He held up a hand. “Don’t even answer, scabhead.”

Billy rolled his eyes at the overused insult.

“Now, who is this?” Alexander asked, taking Beth’s hand and kissing it. “We have not met. I’m Prince Alexander Tartarov, next in line for the throne of the Russian Empire. And you are?”

“Um, I’m, well,” Beth stuttered. “Elizabeth Laughlin, next in line for the crazy house.”

“Oh!” Alex laughed. “She’s funny!”

Sasha came in with an armload of clothes, quickly dumping them on Billy. “There should be something for everyone in here. Food is on its way up. I have to attend to business with His Highness, but I’ll check on you in a few minutes.”

“Right…business,” Alex said. “Duty calls. This lavish lifestyle doesn’t pay for itself!”

“And neither do you, I suspect,” Billy sneered. “New scam?”

Alexander glared at Billy for a moment. “At least I attempt to work for my money instead of hustling cock gobbles in the men’s room.”

“Doesn’t make you less of a whore, Al.”

“Boys!” Heather shouted. “Come on! Five minutes? Really? You can’t go five fucking minutes?”

“Sorry, dear,” Alex smiled. He bowed curtly and followed Sasha out of the room, closing the doors securely behind him. “You know what is going on, right?”

“I just heard of the attacks,” Sahsa said gravely. “Will this affect your proposal?”

“It may well strengthen it,” Alex said. “But having them show up is too risky. Get them fed and then out the fucking door. I don’t need the LOM up my ass right now!”

“Your Highness?” Sasha said, disappointment clouding his features. “I understand kicking the junkie to the street and I know you and Ms. Walton have a troubled history. But sweet Mel? And the other girl?”

“How long has it been since we’ve seen her? Twelve, thirteen years? She doesn’t know us and we don’t know her,” Alexander responded coldly. “Americans are out of favor and out of power now, Sasha. Two things I refuse to be. Make them disappear.”

Chapter Twelve

“Turn the fuck around, Billy!,” Melissa shouted as she stripped the soiled and torn clothes from her body.

“Jesus, Mel, calm down,” Billy said, turning his back on the three women as they changed. “I used to change your fucking diapers for fuck’s sake.”

“Well, you never changed Beth’s, so keep those eyes averted, perv,” Heather laughed, seeing Melissa’s glare. “Calm down, Mel.”

Heather winced as she removed her gore stained clothes. Her body felt used up; a feeling she hadn’t had since her first year of intensive Ghost training. She knew she couldn’t push it as hard as she had been for much longer. She hoped Alexander would pull through for them all and get them to Tibet with as little resistance as possible. A gasp from Melissa quickly yanked her from those thoughts.

“Jesus, freak! Are those jack points?” Melissa exclaimed.

Heather looked at Beth as she tried to quickly cover her nakedness. “Beth, let me see those.”

Beth reluctantly let Heather inspect the 2cm diameter holes strategically placed in her chest, abdomen and pelvis.

“What’s going on?” Billy asked annoyed. “What am I missing?”

“These aren’t jack points,” Heather said reaching a finger towards one of the holes. “May I?”

Beth nodded, her face and body flushed with embarrassment.

“Do they hurt?” Heather asked, probing one of the holes carefully with her finger.

“No,” Beth answered quietly.

“Well, there’s no BC present,” Heather stated. “Have you always had these?”

“Always had those? Aren’t you born with jack points? Isn’t that the point of in-vitro manipulation?” Melissa asked leaning in close. Beth frowned and Heather pushed Mel quickly away.

“Like I just said, Mel, these aren’t jack points.” Heather stood up and tried to get Beth to look her in the eyes. “Beth, I need you to be straight with me. How long have you had these?”

“I don’t know,” Beth answered, quickly pulling on a pair of panties and an undershirt. “As long as I can remember.”

Those words caught Heather’s attention and missing pieces, parts of the Beth puzzle, slid into place. “And how far back can you remember?”

Beth didn’t answer. Heather turned to Melissa.

“How long have you known each other?” Heather asked her niece.

“Since the start of school,” Melissa asked. “She’s a transfer. New this year.”

Heather took a deep breath. “Beth? Answer me. How far back can you remember?”

Beth, a pained look on her face, and her chest hitching with held in sobs, answered very quietly, “Just before school started. When I moved in with my foster family. They said there was an accident.”

“Who said that, Beth?”

“I don’t know, the social workers that dropped me off,” Beth answered. “They brought me to the Liecasters, gave me a duffel of clothes and left. I haven’t talked to them since.”

“No follow up meetings? No inquiries?” Heather asked, alarmed. “They just dumped you?”

“Yeah,” Beth responded, zipping the new jeans Sasha had brought.

“Can I turn around now?” Billy asked impatiently.

“No!” Heather and Mel shouted.

***

“Hello, Alex. I expected you to call much sooner,” the Empress said, staring at her brother’s image on the holocom. “Too busy partying to notice the world has gone to shit?”

The image of Prince Alexander glared. “I don’t need your bullshit, Nat. I’ve been working.” He held up a hand. “Keep your comments to yourself. Just answer me one thing.”

“I’m the Empress of the Russian Empire, brother. I don’t have to answer anything.”

Alexander ignored the statement. “How much of this was you?”

Natalya pursed her lips, a frown of disapproval wrinkling her brow. “Not really a question to be answered over the com. Why don’t you come home for a bit? I hear you have a new project. I’d love to see the results.”

Alexander kept himself composed, but Natalya could tell she had taken him off guard.

“I’m busy at the moment,” Alexander answered flatly.

“Too busy for family?”

The image of the Empress on Alexander’s side was quickly replaced with the image of a severely beaten and abused Vasiliy Tartarov.

Alexander struggled for control of his emotions as he stared at his tortured twin. “I hate you, Nat. You know that, right?”

“And I you,” the Empress responded happily, her image returning. “Now, come home, Alex. Your family needs you.”

The transmission was cut and Prince Alexander Tartarov took two deep breaths to calm himself before leaving his room.

***

Eddie Styles busied himself at the bar by watching two barely clad women out on the dance floor grind and thrust against each other. He gulped his beer and slammed the empty pint glass down, his eyes never leaving the strobe lit women.

“Another, sir?” the bartender shouted behind him, snatching up the empty.

“No. He’s leaving,” Alexander hollered over the music. The bartender nodded and quickly walked away to attend to other customers. “Get your gear, and I mean your real gear, we’re going to St. Petersburg.”

“Trouble? The VIPs weren’t impressed?” Styles asked, standing and stretching, but his eyes still glued to the ladies. “I thought you had that deal locked, even with all the crazy shit.

“I sent them home,” Alex said. “Now’s not the time for business.”

That got Styles’s attention. “Not the time for business? Who the fuck are you and what have you done with Al?”

“Vas is in trouble and I need to get home now,” Alex said, taking Styles by the arm and pulling him away from the bar.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Eddie said, pulling his arm free. “The only way your brother can be in trouble is if your sister put him in trouble!” Styles put his hands out, warding Alexander off. “I didn’t sign up for no regicidal bullshit! If you’re having family issues then you need to fix them yourself!”

“I’ll quadruple your pay,” Alex growled, looking about the club impatiently. “But we have to go now!”

“Ten times,” Styles replied, a stubborn smile spreading across his face.

“Fuck you,” Alex responded immediately. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Eddie asked, stunned, as the prince grabbed him once again and yanked him towards the private lift at the far end of the bar. “You’re giving up that easy? That means this is even worse than I imagined. I should have asked for more!”

“Yes, you should have, but you didn’t. Now get your ass upstairs, get geared up, prep the BTT and let’s get going!”

***

“You what?” Heather and Billy shouted in unison.

“I need you to leave,” Sasha stated plainly, gesturing to the four large backpacks on the floor. “I have made sure you have provisions, supplies, clothes. Gelts here will drive you to a safe drop point, but after that you are on your own.” Sasha motioned and one of the six muscled bodyguards stepped forward and nodded.

Heather stared in astonishment, rage rising in her throat. “You can’t be serious, Sasha! I know there’s history here, but you can’t just dump us! The entire LOM is trying to kill us! They’re wiping out all Americans!”

“Which is why you need to leave,” Sasha answered, his composure starting to break. “The prince cannot be associated with fugitives. He’ll be seen as an enemy of the LOM. He has been working very hard on something and your being here could destroy that work. If not get us all killed.”

“Well, can’t say I’m too surprised,” Billy scoffed, lifting one of the packs and securing it to his back. “Always knew you were a snake, Sasha. Never did trust you.”

“I’m hurt,” Sasha responded sarcastically. “I’ve always prided myself on having the trust of all the junkies in the world.”

Heather glared, violence twitching in her muscles. “You’re better than this.”

“I know,” Sasha said quietly, emotion finally showing. “But the prince isn’t.”

“Well, there’s loyalty for you!” Alexander announced, shoving past the bodyguards. “Nevermind. Change of plans!” He pointed to the remaining backpacks. “You, muscle boys, get those and your own packs to the roof. We’re all going on a trip.”

Sasha raised his eyebrows. “Anything you would care to share, Your Highness?”

“No,” Alexander stated. “You are staying here, Sasha. I need you to keep things working and to run interference in case anyone comes snooping around.”

“And your destination, Prince?” Sasha asked as soon as the bodyguards were out of earshot.

“Home,” Alex responded looking at Heather and Billy. “Vas is in trouble. You may hate me, but Vas has never hurt a soul.”

“Vas? How can Vas be…?” Billy trailed off, realization dawning. “What did that bitch do now?”

“I’ll let you all know when we are loaded up and gone,” Alex said. “We need to get to the roof now.”

“What’s on the roof?” Melissa asked, pushing Beth in front of her.

“The reason we’re here,” Heather said.

***

“Welcome aboard the fabulous BTT, folks,” Styles said, standing in the open door to the cockpit as everyone filed into the cabin. “Tonight’s meal will be jack shit, followed by an appetizing dessert of we’re all fucked. The in flight holo will be ‘How Much More Buggered Can We Get?’ Enjoy!”

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Billy asked, glancing sideways at Styles.

“Mr. Styles is a bit of an aviation buff,” Alexander replied, rolling his eyes. “He thinks it's funny when he brings up ancient pop history.”

Melissa looked about the luxurious cabin. “Where’s the massage room and spa?”

“That’ll be part of the next model,” Alexander said. “If there is a next model.”

Heather reached out, hesitated, then squeezed Alex’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you actually did it. All those ideas in your head finally came together. I knew you’d have something put together by now, otherwise Billy and I wouldn’t have come here, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I’d love to see the schematics,” Billy said, plopping down and leaning the seat back. “Who knows, I might be able to suggest some improvements.”

“You aren’t seeing shit, vehicle boy,” Alex laughed. “That’s all I need is your messed up head tinkering with my masterpiece.”

Three of the six bodyguards filed into the cabin, having finished stowing the gear below, and moved quickly to the very back of the cabin. One of them hit a button and a BC wall instantly solidified, separating them from the rest of the group.

“We’ll be right here if you need us, Your Highness,” Gelts called over the com.

“Thank you, Gelts,” Alex responded. “I think I’ll be fine. Just be ready when we land. I doubt we’ll be welcomed with open arms or hugs and kisses.”

“Strap in for lift off,” Styles’s voice sounded over the cabin com. “There’s probably going to be turbulence at some point. Can’t set off a dozen or so nuclear devices without kicking up a little atmospheric chaos. Try not to throw up everywhere.”

“Throw up?” Melissa asked. “Why would we throw up? What does this thing do?”

In answer there was a lurch and a pressing force as the BTT quickly ascended from the roof and shot out over the Netherlands, leaving Amsterdam far behind. Melissa gripped the arms of her seat until her knuckles popped and went bone white.

“Fuck!” Billy shouted. “I didn’t get any scabs! I’m gonna be a fucking mess by the time we hit St. Pete!”

“Not to worry, William,” Alex almost snarled. “There is a full bar. Any cocktail you could need. And I do mean any.”

Chapter Thirteen

Charlie sat in the cab of the lorry for a few minutes, watching the small farmhouse closely before finally opening the door and stepping onto the damp earth. He did a quick system check of his Shock suit, activated weapons and walked carefully to the front porch, eyes and ears hunting for anything out of the ordinary.

“Even with all that tech I still have you beat,” a woman’s voice said from just behind and to the side of him, followed by the distinct sound of a shell being pumped into the chamber of a shotgun. “How’d they ever let you be a trooper?”

Charlie relaxed, turning to see Nancy Wilkes grinning at him. “Too bad you aren’t American,” Charlie smiled. “You’d be running things by now.” His smile fell away as the realization that there weren’t any “things” anymore hit him.

Nancy, seeing the look on Charlie’s face, set the shotgun against a nearby tree and crossed to him quickly. Her hands came up to caress his face and she kissed him deeply. “I’m so sorry, Charles,” she said sweetly. “Your dad was a great man.”

“Still is,” Charlie replied.

“What?” Nancy took a step back then glanced around the area. “What do you mean?”

Charlie pointed to the lorry. “He’s in there. Or at least I think he his. I need your father’s forklift.”

“Forklift? What for?”

“For a big hunk of biochrome. My dad’s trapped inside and I need to get him out. Plus, I need to get rid of this LOM lorry. I’m sure it’s being looked for. I yanked the tracking system, but…” He pointed to the sky. “They’re always watching.”

Nancy sighed. “Da isn’t going to be too happy about this.”

“He doesn’t like me anyway,” Charlie smirked. “This’ll just be one more thing on his list of why Charlie the Jack should stay away from his daughter.”

Nancy pulled Charlie by the arm towards the farmhouse, grabbing up the shotgun on the way. “Come on. Let’s get that thing out of here, then get you fed and cleaned up.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Charlie sighed. “It’s been a shit day.”

***

“Please remain still, Mr. Stone,” Ms. Isely’s voice echoed in Stone’s head. “Wiggling around will just prolong your discomfort.”

Mr. Stone tried to open his mouth to speak, but found it secured shut. He also noticed that his eyes wouldn’t open, nor could he really hear anything beyond what was coming through the com.

“You are being held in a stasis tank while we run a few diagnostics,” Ms. Isely explained. “Your body is enveloped in gel to keep you from harming yourself while the process completes. Some of the tests can be, well, a bit stressful.”

Mr. Stone felt intense pain shoot up both of his legs and he tried to call out, but had to choke on the words.

“I am telling you all this for your own good, Mr. Stone. Just relax and it will all be over soon.”

“Stone? Can you hear me?” Gein’s voice chimed in. “Listen to Ms. Isely, Stone. She knows what she is talking about. Things are going to be very different for you after tonight. Hopefully for the better.” There was silence for a moment. “Sorry about Reginald, but tough choices had to be made. Not to worry though, he isn’t completely lost.”

Stone thought about Reginald laying dead upon the pub floor, blood pooling about him. He wished he could feel remorse, but there was nothing but hollowness.

***

Screams and shouts could be heard from the nightclub’s main room. Sasha stood up from the console, where he was busy deleting as much of the prince’s personal data as he could. A security guard rushed into the office.

“The LOMSD are here!” the guard shouted.

“Really? I couldn’t have guessed,” Sasha snapped. “Send their commander in.”

Within seconds a tall man, surprisingly not outfitted in a Shock suit, stomped into the office. “Sasha Vernakova?”

“Yes, I’m Sasha Vernakova,” the Steward answered, stepping around the desk to face the commander. “What is the meaning of this?”

“You, sir, have been accused of violating LOM laws regarding air travel,” the commander recited as if from wrote. “You were convicted in a LOM court of law and sentenced to death.”

“I was what…?” Sasha gasped as the commander quickly produced a large pistol and placed it to Sasha’s forehead. The commander pulled the trigger and watched Sasha’s body collapse to the floor.

“Sentence has been carried out,” the commander announced to the empty office. He turned on his heel and stormed into the main room. “Burn it down!”

***

“Is he on his way?” Mr. Brown Eyes asked the holo image of Natalya Tartarov.

“Of course he is,” the Empress answered, annoyed. “He can never resist coming to his brother’s aid. It’s always been the weakness in his otherwise flawlessly callous character.”

“He is key to the next phase of the operation,” Mr. Continental reminded her. “Without him, or his tech to be precise, the rest of what has been planned will be extremely difficult.”

“That means we need him in one piece when we get there, My Lady,” Mr. Plain said.

“What? You think I would harm my own…?” The Empress smiled. “Point taken, gentlemen. He’ll be unharmed and prepped for your arrival.”

“I’m sure he is bringing security with him,” Mr. Continental said. “Will they be a problem?”

“Only one,” Natalya responded. “The others have been paid well enough that they won’t be a bother.”

“What do you know about the pilot?” Mr. Brown Eyes asked. “Is he an ex-Ghost?”

“I have no idea,” the Empress sneered. “I’m just here to bring in my brother. You’ll have to do your own research on the pilot.”

“That has proven to be…difficult,” Mr. Plain grumbled. “We know he is an American, but can find no record of him anywhere.” A picture of Edgar Styles replaced the Empress’s image. “Do you know him?”

“Can’t say that I do,” Natalya responded. “But I like the hat.”

“Yes, well it’s the only consistent part about the man,” Mr. Brown Eyes said. “Please inform us the moment your brother arrives.”

Mr. Plain cut the connection and the three men stared at the empty space.

“You don’t think Ms. Walton could be on that aircraft with the prince, do you?” Mr. Continental said finally. “They do have a history.”

“A very volatile history,” Mr. Brown Eyes replied.

“True, but these are volatile times,” Mr. Plain stated quickly. “If she is on that aircraft then it could go very well for us…”

“Or very bad,” Mr. Continental finished.

***

“So Al and I walk in, both dripping wet,” Billy laughed, sipping at his third triple martini. “And it’s not like it’s water or anything. This is blood, fresh fucking blood, and we are covered!”

“You are fucking up the story as usual, William,” Alexander interrupted leaning forward, fixing Beth with his eyes. “You have to understand that we had been in the field for sixteen days without a single decent meal.”

“Except for the boar,” Billy added.

“Oh! I forgot about the boar!” Alex shouted. “Anyway, we haven’t had a true meal in weeks and we had been hiding in the rendering truck as it was making its usual offal pickups…”

“Well, we convince the café owner to serve us in the alley, even though he wanted us gone right away,” Billy said.

“Credits talk,” Alexander added. “Well, the food is handed to us and we both just stare at the plates, not eating.”

“Even though we hadn’t had real food in forever.”

“Because we were already full!”

“And neither of us wanted to admit it to the other!”

“So we finally cram the food down our throats, ending up stuffed to the gills.”

“Within two minutes we were vomiting up goat cheese and bits of baguette!”

“All in pools of blood and shredded guts!”

Beth’s eyes grew huge, while Melissa just rolled hers and went back to scanning her tablet for an entertaining holo.

“We look at each other, completely embarrassed,” Alexander began.

“Then burst out laughing, realizing we had each been sneaking chunks of raw guts and blood from the rendering vats! We were that hungry!” Billy finished.

The two men burst into hysterics, vodka sloshing from Billy’s glass.

“Why’d we stop being friends?” Billy asked, tears streaming down his face.

“Because you became a junkie, got my parents killed and tried to pin it on the prince,” Melissa snarled, not looking up from the tablet.

The cabin became very quiet. Billy squirmed in his seat, downed his drink then got up to fix another. Alex tried to make eye contact with Melissa, but she refused to look up. Beth smiled weakly and looked down at her hands, then over at Heather, fast asleep in her seat.

“Shouldn’t we wake her?” Beth asked. “Didn’t Mr. Styles announce we were close?”

“Yes, we are well inside Russia by now,” Alexander agreed, getting up and crossing the aisle to Heather. He gently shook her shoulder. When she didn’t wake he shook her again. Before he knew it he was slammed to the floor and Heather was straddling his chest, knife to his throat.

“Please, darling, let’s leave the sex play to the bedroom, shall we?” he said casually pushing the knife away from his throat. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Who said you did?” Heather yawned. “Maybe that’s just what your touch does to women.”

“Oh, I think you know better than that,” Alex grinned as Heather pulled him to his feet. They looked at each other for a moment before Heather turned to the girls.

“Let’s check those packs and see if there isn’t something to make us all look a little more presentable,” Heather said. “You’re about to meet the Empress of Russia.”

“And she’ll probably kill you all,” Alex said. “So I don’t think evening attire is warranted.”

“Evening attire?” Heather laughed, lifting a hatch that led to the hold below. “You misunderstand, Alex. I’m going to make sure we are dressed to kill. Literally.” She ducked below.

“In that case, try to make it something in black leather!” the prince shouted after her.” He winked at Beth as he made his way to the cockpit. “I’m a sucker for a leather clad assassin.”

***

Styles didn’t need to turn around to know that it was the prince entering the cabin, since they were the only two people in the world whose biometric signatures could open the cockpit door.

“How’s the party going back there?” Styles asked, checking his meager instrument console. He didn’t really need much since all control systems were jacked directly into the large port in the top of his skull, a two decimeter BC cable snaking down his back to the floor and into the console. The port was a detail Styles kept hidden with his cowboy hat affectation. “Everyone having a good time?”

“Lovely,” Alex frowned. “How close are we?”

“Landing in minutes,” Styles said. “If your sister has a clear landing pad built.”

“Oh, she’ll have it built,” Alexander scoffed, patting the wall of the aircraft. “It’s this baby she wants.”

“She knows I’m the only one that can fly it?” Styles asked, glancing over his shoulder at Alex.

“Not yet, she doesn’t,” Alexander said, watching the night sky and the lights of St. Petersburg grow closer below.

“You may want to tell her. Just in case she’s bullet happy when we land, I’d like to be one of those left standing.”

“You don’t know my sister.” Alex gave a hollow laugh. “If you are in her crosshairs, you’re dead. Doesn’t matter how valuable you are.”

Styles watched Alex for a moment. “Jesus… Christmas must have been a blast when she didn’t get what she wanted.”

“What are you talking about? She always got what she wanted.”

***

“I was kidding,” Alex said as he stood next to Heather. “I didn’t really think there was a leather outfit in that gear.”

“Yes, well,” Heather frowned. “Apparently that is all Sasha packed for me.” She looked sideways at the prince, her eyes narrowing to slits. “And I’m sure you had nothing to do with it.”

Alexander laughed. “Honestly, I didn’t! It’s just Sasha’s way of telling me that there may be other women out there, but there is only one Heather Walton.”

“Don’t you mean ‘Heather Tartarov’?” Heather joked. “We never did get that taken care of.”

“Yes, um, well,” Alex stuttered. “You may want to keep that to yourself. I told my sister we did get it taken care of. You’ll have an even bigger target on your back if she thinks you have a claim to any of Russia through me.” There was a slight bump as the BTT settled on the landing pad and Heather fell against Alexander. “Please, darling, that doesn’t help anything.”

“Shut up,” Heather growled, punching the prince in the chest as the cabin door opened and a small ladder descended to the ground. “And tell your sister she doesn’t have to worry about me.” She hooked a thumb behind her. “Or them. We just want to go our separate way. She can have Russia and kill you, for all I care.”

“My hero,” Alex said in a falsetto.

“Suck it, Al,” Heather said as she climbed down the ladder, every sense in her body humming, waiting and ready for the attack.

***

Empress Natalya sat in her armored skiff, watching the group step onto the landing zone. “Looks like it’s a bigger reunion than I could have hoped for,” she snarled. “The Americans will be a problem.”

“Shall we execute them?” her chief of security, Mr. Zverev, asked.

“No… not yet,” she answered, her eyes fixed on Heather. “In fact, I believe Ms. Walton may have something of interest on her person. Show them all to the guest wing, make them comfortable and lock them down. I want all personal belongings brought to the Shop. Understand?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Zverev nodded, getting from the skiff.

***

Beth watched as Gelts stepped away from their group and met Zverev halfway between the aircraft and the Empress’s skiff.

“What are they doing?” she asked Melissa.

“Not a fucking clue,” Melissa said. “What do I look like? The bodyguard etiquette expert?”

“They’re getting ground rules established,” Heather responded. “So if someone gets startled by a sneeze nobody pulls their pistol and starts firing.”

Gelts and Zverev shook hands quickly, while Gelts looked back and nodded to the prince. Zverev crossed to the skiff, opening the door and offering his hand to the Empress. Natalya took it and adjusted herself appropriately as her brother approached.

“Show time,” Alex whispered to no one, his face instantly alight with a wide, fake smile. “Sister!” he called, his arms as wide as his smile.

“Brother!” the Empress responded with just as much insincerity. “So glad you could come!”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world!” the prince shouted. “The chance to see the homeland and your smiling face? How could I pass that up?”

They embraced stiffly, each pecking the other on the cheek lightly.

“We’re dead, aren’t we?” Billy leaned in and whispered to Heather.

“Probably,” Heather sighed.

Chapter Fourteen

“Oh my fucking God!” Melissa exclaimed as she opened the doors to the room she and Beth would be sharing. “This is bigger than my entire house!”

Beth stood in awe as Melissa dashed into the room and leapt onto one of the two king sized beds.

“Come on!” Melissa shouted, jumping up and down on the mattress. “These things have more bounce than a fucking trampoline!”

Beth smiled at the rare bit of immaturity Melissa showed. “Do you think they have us on holocam?”

Melissa’s face instantly soured and she fell to her knees, her eyes scanning the room. “I’m sure they do.” She got down off the bed and crossed to a door left slightly ajar. She reached inside and flicked on a light, the breath whooshing from her lungs as she saw what was inside. Beth rushed to her side.

“Mel? Are you okay? What is…?” Beth trailed off as she stared at the largest closet she had ever seen. “That’s bigger than the flat my foster parents had.”

Melissa began searching through the dresses, blouses, shirts, skirts, trousers, jeans, leggings, boots, shoes and hats. She finally slumped to the ground, her eyes wide in disbelief. “Everything on this side is my size. Everything.”

Beth looked to the opposite side of the closet and began searching also. She turned around quickly, her eyes as wide as Melissa’s.

“Are they…?” Melissa asked.

“Yes,” Beth answered breathless.

The two girls ran from the closet and looked about frantically. They soon saw the open doors on each side of their beds, the glint of marble catching their eye. Melissa sprinted to her door.

“The bathroom is even bigger than the closet!” she shouted.

“So is mine!” Beth replied.

They peeked around the doors at each other then squealed and began undressing, clothes flying every which way.

***

Heather stared at the gaudy dress set out for her. She yanked at the note pinned to it.

“Dear Ms. Walton,” the note began. “The Empress expects you to have breakfast with her in the west atrium dining parlor at seven o’clock. Please be prompt and properly attired. If you shall need any assistance, do not hesitate to ring. Yours Kindly, The Staff.”

Heather wadded up the note and glanced at the bedside clock. Three AM.

“Seven? Jesus,” Heather swore as she pulled at her boots. There was a light knocking at her door. “What?”

Billy peeked his head in, instantly saw the dress and grinned, pulling a suit from behind his back as he came into the room and closed the door behind him. “You’re cursed too, huh?”

“Apparently breakfast is on par with the fucking opera,” Heather snarled. Billy set the suit aside and grabbed onto Heather’s second boot.

“Yeah, I’d forgotten what it was like around here,” Billy said.

“This is all Nat’s doing,” Heather scoffed. “It wasn’t this bad when we used to be here with Al.”

“I think Alex shielded us from a lot of the pomp,” Billy said tossing the boot aside and turning around as Heather unzipped the briefly worn leather outfit. “Probably why he fled as soon as he could.” Billy heard water running and looked over his shoulder to see the bathroom door close. “Well, nice chatting with you.” He sighed and picked up his suit, leaving the bedroom door wide open as he left.

***

Where is he?” Alexander growled at his sister. “You fucking bitch! What have you done to Vas?”

“Manners, Alexander. I’m still your monarch.” Natalya activated a security holo and instantly the image of a bruised and battered Vasily flicked to life. Alex stepped forward, reaching towards the image, his fingers flicking through the empty air.

“Is that Peter?” Alex gasped, seeing the body draped across his brother’s legs. “He’s not breathing, is he?”

Natalya smiled. “No, he’s not. The warden says he passed away several hours ago, but Vas refuses to give him up. I figured, what’s the harm? Let him have his dead boy toy. What’s it really matter?”

“Boy toy?” Alex said, stunned. “Peter and Vas have been together since they were teenagers. He’s family, Nat!”

The Empress’s face contorted with rage. “No, he’s not, Alexander! You are family! Vasily is family! It’s about time you fucking understood that!” She waved her hands and the image changed, split and split again into Melissa and Beth staring at their closet one last time before crawling into bed; Billy sitting in his room alone, one light lit and his nails digging into his flesh as the scabs started to wear off; Heather’s silhouette in the shower as the bathroom filled with steam. “You need to stop looking elsewhere, brother! And start focusing on what is right here!”

“You’re a sick fuck, Nat,” Alexander whispered, collapsing into a chair.

“You’re a fine one to point fingers,” Natalya said waving Alexander away. “I advise you get a little sleep, we have much to talk about over breakfast.”

“I’m not giving you the BTT,” Alexander stated, pushing his fatigued body up from the chair.

“Well, we’ll discuss that in the morning,” Natalya smiled. “I’m sure we have plenty of bargaining room.” The holocam image focused only on Heather this time and Natalya’s smile widened as she watched the emotions play across her brother’s face. “Get some sleep, Alexander. I promise that everyone will be fine tonight. After that…”

Alex turned quickly, his stomach tightening as he bolted from the room, his sister’s quiet laughter following him out the door.

***

Heather let the scalding hot water rush over her as she wretched again and again, black liquid swirling down the drain. She slowly slumped to the bottom of the shower, pulling her knees tightly against her chest.

She could feel something shifting inside her and she knew that whatever it was she stole, it was in her now. There was no denying that anymore.

Instantly she was at attention, realizing she hadn’t seen any of her gear in her room.

She shut the water off, grabbed a towel, wrapping it about her as she searched every corner, closet, dresser and drawer in her bedroom.

Nothing.

“Fuck!” she shouted, hating herself for getting caught up in all the royal drama. It was that drama that forced her to leave in the first place and she felt wave after wave of shame wash over her for letting it happen to her again.

“FUCK!” she shouted once more, punching the wall, leaving a good sized dent.

***

“You’ll need to take your hat off, sir,” a porter said as Styles entered the parlor, having been called to breakfast with everyone else.

He slapped the porter’s hand away quickly. “I ain’t taking off shit.”

“Mr. Styles, it would be a courtesy to me if you would remove your hat,” the Empress glared. “As you can see, we are all properly attired for breakfast.”

Styles looked around the room at the fine dresses the ladies wore and at Billy fighting his tall, starched collar. “With all due respect, Your Majesty,” Styles said, bowing slightly. “I don’t take my hat off. If you would prefer me to dine elsewhere, I would be happy to oblige, but I must insist that my hat stay where it is.”

The Empress looked taken aback and instantly turned to her brother.

“It’s true,” Alexander said around a mouthful of pheasant. “The hat doesn’t come off. Probably better for us all. Old conflict wound up there that isn’t exactly appetizing.”

The Empress and Styles locked eyes.

“Very well,” she conceded finally. “You can keep that thing on, but do not expect to dine with us this evening, Mr. Styles. I have important guests coming and none of them should be forced to tolerate your American affectation.”

Styles tilted his hat and took a seat next to Beth. “Much obliged, ma’am,” he drawled dramatically. Beth had to force herself not to smile.

“So, Heather, dear,” the Empress said, switching the conversation. “What a nice surprise to see you! After the annulment I figured you and Alexander wouldn’t ever cross paths.”

“One could only hope,” Heather smiled. “But life is funny sometimes.”

“Funny, dear?” Natalya asked, lifting a gold dusted scone to her lips and nibbling lightly. “How do you mean?”

God how Heather hated that woman. She never could stand her before she was Empress and all she wanted to do was leap the long table and choke the bitch with her own pastry. “Just that sometimes, no matter what you have planned, life takes you in the direction it wants you to go,” she said, keeping her emotions in check. “Not necessarily the direction you want to go.”

“Well said, dear. Well said,” the Empress nodded, turning to her brother. “Advice you should listen to, Alexander.”

The table grew quiet except for the clinking of silverware and glass.

After a few minutes, the Empress pushed away from the table. “Well, I’m quite full. Don’t want to make a pig of myself.” She smiled at everyone. “If you’ll excuse us, my brother and I have important issues to discuss. I trust him so much that I just couldn’t bear to go through these difficult times without his council. Alex? Shall we?” She put her arm out and Alexander set down the bite he was about to take, stood and escorted the Empress from the room, keeping his eyes averted from the rest. “Feel free to use the stables if you wish. I know how much you love to ride, Heather. Oh, and by the way, my condolences on the annihilation of your comrades. I guess the time of the Americans has come to a close, no?”

Billy clamped down hard on Heather’s leg under the table, knowing the woman was about to lose it on the monarch. “Easy,” he whispered.

Once their footfalls could no longer be heard, Billy let out a long, slow breath. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “Is it me or is she even bug fuck crazier than before?”

The table stayed quiet for a moment longer.

“Horses?” Beth asked finally. “I’ve never ridden a horse before.”

No one answered.

“How about I put it this way,” she said a little louder. “I would like to ride a horse before I die. Which could be tonight, tomorrow, or the next day.”

“The freak’s got a point,” Melissa agreed. “I haven’t been riding in years. Can we?”

Heather didn’t respond and Billy had to nudge her to get her attention.

“Huh? What?” she stuttered. “Yeah, sure, go riding.” She pushed her plate away and stood up. “I, however, am taking a drive. I want to see what's left of the American base. It's a few miles away, but shouldn't take me long to get to. Billy, will you go with the girls?”

“Um, no, don’t think so,” Billy said, looking at Styles. “Styles says he’ll show me around the BTT.” The pilot nodded in agreement. “Plus, there’s something on the aircraft that I could use more than coffee at the moment.”

Heather noticed Billy’s shaking hands and the color of his skin for the first time that morning. “Fine. I'll have some of Gelts's men ride out with them. You get yourself right.” She gripped him on the shoulder and nodded, motioning for the girls to follow. They quickly got up and were out the door, leaving Billy alone with Styles.

Billy clapped his hands together. “So? Ready to start?”

“Fuck you,” Styles said, his mouth full of eggs and caviar. “I’m gonna eat until I bust, drink a full pot of coffee, then have seconds before I’m fucking going anywhere.”

Billy frowned and looked about the parlor, spotting a small couch in the corner. “I’ll be over here. Wake me when your tank is topped off.”

“Will do,” Styles grinned, bits of yellow flying from his lips onto the tablecloth.

***

“I have had Ms. Walton’s possessions removed from her quarters,” the Empress began as she and Alexander strolled from the palace and into one of the many large courtyard gardens. “Are you aware she is carrying LOMSD contraband?”

“I know she and the others are in trouble, but not the specifics,” Alex answered.

“Right,” Natalya responded, not believing a word her brother said. “Well, dear brother, I trust you will help run interference if Ms. Walton should object.”

“I think you know Heather well enough to know that no one can run interference if she is set on making trouble,” Alex laughed.

The Empress stopped and fixed her brother with a cold stare. “I expect you to try, Alexander. For Vasily’s sake, of course.”

“Of course,” Alex replied through gritted teeth.

“Excellent. I have alerted the warden that you will be visiting our brother,” the Empress said, taking the prince by the arm. “After we have a nice relaxing stroll, of course.”

“Of course,” Alex droned.

Chapter Fifteen

It took Heather less than an hour to get to the blast zone. She pulled the helmet of the haz suit on and secured the seal, making sure none of the radiation and fallout from the nuclear detonation would affect her.

Stepping from the skiff, she walked to the edge of what was left of the grand forest that had surrounded the former American base. The trees were scorched and withered, but most were still standing and many even had leaves and needles on them. Heather cautiously left the tree line, watching her footing on the ashy, muddy slope that overlooked the massive crater below.

Miles off was the center of the blast and the resulting hole looked bottomless, but she knew that was more an illusion from the deep black the ground had turned due to the intense heat of the blast.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. All through school as a kid she had heard of how the United States had erupted in internal civil war, resulting in mutual destruction on both sides, leaving the American continent a scorched and uninhabitable wasteland. At no point did she ever think she would witness the same thing now, when the Americans had fought so hard to secure their place in the world.

Why? Why would anyone do that? Was power that important? Were the Americans such a threat to the extremists, the LOM, the whoever-the-fuck really did it all?

Heather looked out into the swirling ash clouds that formed at the edge of the crater, knowing some of that ash used to be human. Used to be American.

***

Melissa pulled on the reins, bringing the stallion up short as she and Beth left the shade of the woods and entered the brilliant green of a large meadow. Melissa hopped down, grabbed a bag from the saddle and swatted the horse gently on its flank, letting the animal know it could wander free in the meadow. Melissa helped Beth down, sending her horse out with the other. The accompanying guards remained mounted on their horses, setting themselves at even intervals around the meadow.

Spreading a blanket, Melissa began to go through the bag the kitchen had prepared for them. “Meat, cheese, fruit, water, wine and bread,” she announced. “How very rustic.”

“Sounds nice,” Beth said. “Simple.”

“You’d know simple,” Melissa joked, but her voice was missing most of the venom it usually had.

“Did you say there was wine?” Beth asked. “Don't they know we're under age?”

“I think the annihilation of our culture might have made them go easy on us,” Melissa countered.

The two girls leaned back and watched the clouds break up and reform above them for a long while. Finally, Melissa uncorked the wine bottle and took a long swig. She handed the bottle to Beth.

“Um, are you sure?” Beth asked, looking over at Alex's guards. “You don't think they'll tell Heather?”

“You said it yourself earlier,” Melissa grinned, forcing the bottle into Beth’s hands. “You could be dead tonight, tomorrow or the next day. If that isn’t an excuse to start drinking, then I don’t know what is.”

Beth took a cautious sip before Melissa yanked the bottle from her grasp.

“It’s for drinking, not kissing,” Melissa said, chugging a good amount.

Beth reached across and pulled the bottle away playfully, took another drink and handed it back. “I’m glad to have changed clothes,” Beth said. “That corset was cutting off the circulation to my boobs.”

Melissa snorted. “You said boobs.”

“Are you a twelve year-old-boy, Mel?” Beth laughed. “Boobs…”

The girls watched the clouds some more before Beth spoke up. “So what's it like being an active Ghost now?”

Melissa shrugged. “Not much different than before except I know more about how things work. I understand the link between the Americans’ genetics and biochrome.”

“Like how?” Beth asked between sips. “I know I felt something back on the beach, but I had no knowledge of what I was doing. I just did it.”

“Yeah, that must have freaked your shit out...freak,” Melissa laughed.

“Don't call me freak,” Beth smiled.

“Then give me back the bottle,” Mel said, pulling the wine away and drinking deeply. “I guess the hard part is knowing what my talent is, my expertise.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well, it's like how Billy can design and build any vehicle needed and Heather can make and use any weapon with just a thought,” Melissa replied. “Every Ghost has a specific talent, but there is no way to predict how it will manifest.”

“Are there any signs? Do you have any feelings one way or another?”

“Sort of. I felt my body come alive last night when we saw all the clothes, but I was so tired and messed up I didn't take the moment to explore the feeling.”

“Um, I think we both felt alive seeing those clothes. That was an impressive collection.”

“No, it was different,” Melissa said taking her time before finishing. “It was almost like I could see the patterns of each piece overlaid with the actual thing. I saw the stitching, the material thread count, the way each blouse would fit with each skirt or trousers; how each dress would go perfectly with each pair of shoes.”

“Maybe fashion is your talent,” Beth laughed. “You could make sure everyone is their stylish best before they go into mortal combat.”

“Or,” Melissa began. “It could mean that I can translate that talent into building new Shock suits. I could weave BC into uniforms that are as light as organic material, but tough as BC armor.”

Beth rolled over and looked at Melissa. “I wish I could do that.”

Melissa couldn't help but laugh. “I wish I could fucking melt Spiders with my mind! I'll trade ya.”

“I don’t know how I did that. I haven't felt the same since, but I can't quite capture what happened. It's like the power of it is just out of reach.”

“Well keep trying to grasp it...it could...be help...full,” Melissa's words began to slur and she looked in alarm at the wine bottle in her hand. “Ah, shit.”

“What is it?” Beth asked rolling to her side to face Melissa. The movement made her dizzy and the meadow swam about her. “Oh... Damn...”

The last thing the girls heard before losing consciousness was the sound of gunfire and yells of alarm from Gelts's men. Then all went black.

***

The techs in the Shop nodded courteously to the Empress as she and Zverev strode through the many departments until they reached a thick black door in the back. Zverev entered his code on the key pad and thumbed in his biometrics. The door slid back and he ushered the Empress inside.

“So?” Natalya demanded. “Is it what the Three said it would be?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the lead tech, Dr. Stilig responded. “I believe it is.” He gestured to a set of stools set along the wall, but the Empress ignored him, preferring to stand and glare.

“Well? What is it?”

“Nanotech, Your Highness. Very foreign. I have never seen tech like this before,” Dr. Stilig answered, activating a blown up holo of what he was looking at under the microscanner. “I will need a larger sample. There are only small traces. The main containment has been lost.”

“Lost? Where?” the Empress asked, her patience already waning.

Dr. Stilig glanced at Zverev, but was met with a blank stare. “I am unsure, Your Highness. I only examined the container as it was given to me.”

The Empress grinned. “Take a guess.”

Dr. Stilig swallowed hard. “It could be possible that the main containment was transferred.”

“Transferred how?” the Empress asked, fiddling absently with some of the equipment lining the lab.

“It may be in a vehicle…” Stilig began. The Empress turned to Zverev, who shook his head.

“No vehicle, Doctor. Where else?”

“Well, um, it could be possible that, well, given the right conditions, a, um, person could be carrying the containment,” the Doctor stuttered. “But that would be quite risky. If containment was breached that person could possibly be killed by the nanotech. Unless…”

The Empress twirled her hands, egging the Doctor on.

“Well, and this is all theory,” Dr. Stilig said. “If the person had some sort of conditioning to handle ingestion of large quantities of metal, say, if they were an American Ghost…”

Natlaya smiled broadly. “That is an excellent theory, Doctor!” She clapped her hands together enthusiastically. “Who else knows of the nanotech?”

“Just my lead assistant, Your Majesty,” Dr. Stilig answered, worry creasing his brow.

The Empress turned to Zverev. “Find the assistant’s family and hold them, you know, as motivation. We wouldn’t want any loose lips. Understand?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Zverev replied as he followed Natalya out of the room.

“This will be an excellent addition to our collection. Don’t you think, Doctor?” the Empress asked.

“I will need a larger sample, Your Highness,” the Doctor risked saying.

“And I will try to bring it to you, Doctor.” The Empress grinned as she and Zverev left the lab. “I think I know right where to find it.”

Dr. Stilig leaned heavily on the work table next to him and closed his eyes. He knew it was just a matter of time before something happened. He was glad only his assistant’s family would be held. His predecessor hadn’t been so lucky.

***

“I could feel you coming before you got halfway down the hall,” Vasily said as a prison guard let Alexander into the cell, closing and locking it behind him.

So deteriorated was Vasily’s physical state that no one would have known the two brothers to be identical twins. Alexander looked down with pity at his brother, and the putrefying corpse lain across his legs, covering his mouth with his hand to ward off the smell.

“You have to let them take Peter, Vas,” Alexander said kindly, kneeling close, gripping his brother’s shoulder.

Vasily winced in pain, but didn’t pull away. “No need, Tick. I’ll be joining him soon.”

Alexander’s heart broke at the mention of his nickname. Tick and Tock. It was what their mother had called them when they were children.

“Here come Tick and Tock,” she would call out when they ran into her bedroom. “You can’t have one without the other.”

Alexander fought, but he was soon bawling, his head buried in his brother’s neck. Vasily reached up absently and patted Alex’s head softly.

“Shhhh,” he whispered. “There is nothing you can do. Whether you give her what she wants or not, it’s already gotten so far she will have to kill me. Kill us both unless you can get away.”

Alexander pushed away. “No!” he shouted, wiping his nose. “I’ll get you out of here!”

Vasily looked up into his brother’s teary eyes. “You don’t believe that,” he said, taking Alexander’s hand in his. “Save yourself, if you can. Preferably without giving The Cunt what she wants.”

Alexander couldn’t help but smile. The Cunt. They all had their nicknames. He wiped roughly at his eyes. “Will you let me take Peter?”

“No, Tick,” Vasily answered quietly. “I will be joining him shortly.” Vasily opened his right hand and a small piece of white apothecary paper fell out of it. “I still have friends in the Guard. They were able to help me along.”

“How soon?” Alexander asked, suddenly calm now that his brother’s fate was decided.

“Minutes?” Vasily yawned. “Maybe sooner. I waited to take it until I knew you were coming.”

Alexander settled down next to his brother. “I’ll wait with you if that is okay?”

“Of course,” Vasily smiled through another yawn. “I would love nothing more.”

The two twins held hands as one waited for the other to die.

***

“So, did you design this, or did Al?” Billy asked from behind the bar as he placed a well stocked jar of scabs back in place, having taken what he needed.

“A little of both,” Styles said, his feet propped up on a table as he lifted a pint of dark beer. “Mostly Al, though. He says it’s something he’s been dreaming about since he was a little tike.”

Billy laughed and mixed a very dry martini. “Okay, I have to ask. What’s with the whole cowboy thing? I mean you even have the accent. I hate to break it to you, pardner, the South ain’t gonna rise again.”

“Don’t really know,” Styles said honestly. “It’s how my people talked and how I’ve always talked.”

“Fair enough,” Billy said, sipping from his glass. “I’ve known Americans from Spain that had Spanish accents so thick I sometimes had to switch on the translator in my com.” Billy took a long swig of his cocktail. “But what about the hat? That had to be specially made.”

“It was,” Styles answered, fingering the brim. “Made for my great granddaddy. I just happen to have the right size head.”

“So it’s not true about the combat wound?”

Styles laughed and tapped his empty glass with his finger. Billy grinned, poured another and walked over, taking a seat next to him as he handed him the fresh pint.

“Thanks,” Styles said. “I do have a wound under my hat, but not really from combat. More a vocational hazard.”

“And which vocation would that be?”

“Professional guinea pig,” Styles said, his face suddenly hard and serious. “Al found me in some lab, I really don’t know where, and got me the hell out of there. Of course, I doubt he would have done it if I couldn’t fly this baby.” Styles patted the wall of the cabin.

“So what does BTT stand for?” Billy asked, knowing from the look on Styles’s face he wasn’t going to get any more explanation about the lab.

“Better Than Tits!” Styles snorted.

***

Heather took a deep breath, grimacing at the sterile, antiseptic taste from the suit's air processors. She didn't even flinch when the twig snapped behind her.

“I know you’re there,” she whispered. “Might as well show yourself.”

There was a slight rustle and a shadow pulled away from the trees.

“Come on,” Heather insisted. “I don’t have all day.”

The shadow stepped into the light and Heather gasped. A young man, American by the style of Shock suit he wore, approached her cautiously. Lacerations crisscrossed his face and one eye was all but unrecognizable, its purple-black mass swollen like a ripe piece of fruit. His Shock suit was scarred and burned in many places and Heather could tell the helmet was no longer functional, since he hadn't bothered to raise it and his skin was showing sure signs of severe radiation poisoning.

“You’re American?” the young man asked. “A Ghost?”

“Yes…What happened?” Heather asked, peering further into the forest, trying to see if there was anyone else.

“Don’t bother,” the trooper sighed. “I think I’m the only one that made it out.”

“What are you doing here?” Heather said, guiding the trooper away from the crater and back towards the skiff. He yanked his arm away and stepped back.

“No! They are watching,” he hissed. “I shouldn’t have exposed myself to you.”

“But you did, so let me help you.”

“You can’t. I just wanted to warn you to get away,” he said rapidly. “Our orders were to storm the palace and take the Empress. But they were waiting for us. I made it into the woods. That was just before the detonation.” The trooper looked past Heather, his eyes fixing on the past. “They nuked it all. The base. Everything.” He snapped out of his reverie and gripped Heather by the shoulders. “Leave now! They want to kill us all—!”

His last words were cut short as his face was ripped open by an unheard bullet. Heather stumbled back, wiping at the brain and bits of bone splattered across her facemask.

The hillside was instantly surrounded by the Palace Guard, their weapons trained on Heather. She glanced quickly back at the skiff and knew, even with her speed, she wouldn't make it in time.

“Fuck,” she cursed, already moving to close the distance between her and the guards.

“On the ground now!” one shouted. “We have orders to execute you if you do not comply!”

“Yeah, good luck with that, assholes!” Heather shouted as she reached the first guard, her speed taking him by surprise. She dropped to the ground, her body sliding along the slick, muddy slope, and kicked out with her right leg, connecting with the guard’s kneecap, the crunch of bone drowned out only by the guard’s scream.

She tossed him aside as he fell onto her, grabbed up his rifle, rolled to her left and opened fire. Three quick trigger pulls and she dropped three guards, but also caught a return bullet in her right shoulder, spinning her about and slamming her to the ground, her suit sealing instantly.

Heather had been shot many times before, but that was different. She could feel the bullet rip through muscle and shatter her shoulder blade as it exited out her back, but she also felt the searing pain of healing flesh, just like with a BC suture rush job, and instantly knew she was no longer wounded.

Not wasting any time, Heather flipped herself to her feet and bolted for the tree line, hearing bullets rush past her head as she ducked into the cover of the shadows.

Another slug hit her, then another and another, bouncing her body against the pine trees surrounding her. She started to convulse, but not from the gunshots. She ripped her helmet off, doubled over and heaved out more of the red-black goo that had been plaguing her for the past day.

Struggling to her feet, the viscous liquid dripping from her chin, Heather turned and faced the remaining guards, their rifles squared at her chest.

“Fuck you,” she gurgled as more liquid flowed from her throat and out her mouth.

The guards opened fire and it wasn’t until their magazines had emptied that Heather finally lost consciousness, her body unable to keep up with the assault.

***

Gelts had disabled every bit of surveillance he could find in his quarters, if a small, cold room behind the kitchen could be called “quarters”. Not exactly what he thought the head of security and personal bodyguard for one of Europe's royal members deserved, but then he had learned to roll with the punches in his line of work.

He knew they would be watching him, listening to him, coming for him, which was why he was sitting in a chair in the far corner of the room, the lights off and two auto-pistols in his lap, when they did come.

Knowing they would be wearing body armor at the least, and Shock suits at the most, he made sure every shot he took was a head shot. There was a pile of headless bodies six deep blocking the door before the first pistol was empty and he tossed it aside, rolling from the chair to the middle of the room, hoping they weren't going to use explosives or heavy guns. Hand to hand he could handle, small arms he could compensate for, but the room was too tiny for him to survive any heavy ordinance.

“Mr. Gelts!” Zverev's voice boomed. “I do not want to kill you and wish you would stop killing my men!”

“Stop sending them in here then!” Gelts shouted back, immediately moving to a different spot in the room so they couldn't lock in on his voice, although he was sure their scanners had his body signature targeted.

“We have been asked to bring you into temporary custody,” Zverev called. “You are not to be harmed, only detained for security reasons.”

Gelts shook his head. He knew they could take him eventually, there was only one of him after all. He didn’t expect any rescue, since he was pretty certain that the rest of his security team hadn't been made the same offer and were probably nothing but ash in the trash incinerator's catch bin.

He took a deep breath and glanced about his room. The shadowy outlines of the single bed, small desk and chair, and small dresser mocked him, providing zero cover or protection. He could hear the muffled voice of Zverev directing his team, probably getting them ready to blast their way through at any moment.

“Why do you want me alive?” Gelts asked.

There was a slight pause. “Because it is the only way to get the prince to do as the Empress wants,” Zverev answered honestly. “With you alive, Prince Alexander will feel more secure and will be more cooperative.”

Gelts smiled. Zverev had a reputation for bluntness and brutality in the security world, but he was also known as a man of his word. Of course, his word was only good if it didn't go against his orders from his Empress.

“I'm coming out,” Gelts shouted and he could hear the guards checking their weapons and setting positions. “I'm leaving my pistol inside and my hands will be raised. Kill me, Zverev, and my ghost will haunt you for eternity!”

“Understood,” Zverev said and Gelts knew he would live through the next few moments, but had no illusions as to the rest of his future.

Chapter Sixteen

“Time to go, brother,” Natalya said from outside the cell, her face an impassive mask.

“Not going with you, Nat,” Alexander replied. “Vas is gone. Your hold on me is over.”

“Yes, well, that may have been true if you had come by yourself,” the Empress said, activating a holo. The images of Heather, Beth and Melissa's unconscious bodies being carried into a dark grey, utilitarian building came to life before Alexander's eyes. “I know you have had your issues with Ms. Walton, and I doubt you even care for the new girl, but I remember how your face would light up when little Mel would jump into your arms. You do as you are told and she stays safe.” The image faded away quickly and Alexander glared.

“And when I've done that, what's to stop you from discarding me as you did Vas?” Alexander snarled. “We are all dead, sister. I'm not as world savvy as you, but I've certainly learned a few things.”

“Such as how to negotiate the price of a prostitute? Please, brother, your knowledge of life is worthless,” Natalya laughed. “It's your skills with BC design that I need. Those skills will secure the Russian throne for generations.”

It was Alexander's turn to laugh. “Generations? Even if someone could stomach the thought of breeding with you, you'd only eat your young anyway.”

Natalya glared and motioned for the cell door to be opened. It slid aside and several guards came in, yanking the corpses of Vasily and Peter roughly away from the prince. Alexander's entire body sagged in defeat.

“You will have to kill me, Nat. You know that, right?” he said, pained by the simple truth.

“Yes, Alex,” the Empress responded with no hint of remorse. “Hopefully, you'll prove yourself valuable enough to keep around for a while. You amuse me, brother, and in these trying times amusement is hard to come by.”

“Not if you're a sociopathic monarch,” Alexander said, getting to his feet as more guards surrounded him. He waved them away. “I'm not going to do anything.”

***

“One, two, three!” Billy shouted before he and Styles systematically downed the twelve shots of whiskey set out before each of them, slamming each empty shot glass onto the table.

“Done!” Styles yelled a split second before Billy. He leapt to his feet, doing a drunk shuffle and had to immediately brace himself against one of the seats. “Oh, man, I think that eleventh shot did me in...”

Billy tried to stand, but just ended up in a heap on the floor. “The eleventh? What about the twelfth?”

“There were twelve?” Styles said, now visibly green. “Shit, math never was my strong suit.”

A shrill alarm blared in the cabin and both men covered their ears.

“What the fuck is that?” Billy yelled.

“Proximity alarm!” Styles shouted back. “Someone is moving a little too close to my girl!”

“Turn it off! Turn it off!” Billy pleaded.

Styles stumbled to the cockpit and began flicking switches until the alarm ceased. He collapsed back into the pilot's chair and brought up external surveillance, becoming considerably more sober at the sight of the small squadron of Palace guards taking up positions around the BTT.

“So, what's...up...?” Billy asked as he fell into the cockpit. “Dammit! I knew it would all go bad, but hoped we'd at least get another breakfast out of it first. And maybe a massage in the spa.”

Styles tossed his hat aside and Billy gasped as he watched Styles jack into the BTT.

“Dude! That's fucked up!” Billy said, all courtesy aside.

“Yep, it is,” Styles responded. “Doesn't always feel so good, either.”

Billy pulled himself upright and leaned against the cockpit wall. “I hope you got a plan, cowboy. Because my Ghost skills are unreliable at best and completely useless at the worst.”

“Not to worry, Billy boy. I've been in worse situations,” Styles laughed around an alcoholic belch. “Ugh, that one was chunky.”

“Yeah, I keep forgetting you've been hanging with Al,” Billy laughed. “He tends to get people into these kind of situations.”

“ATTENTION MR. STYLES AND MR. BRENTON!” a voice boomed over a loudspeaker. “PLEASE EXIT THE VEHICLE OR WE WILL REMOVE YOU BY FORCE!”

“Hah!” Styles grinned. “They don't seem to know that I've been hanging with Al. You can't remove anyone or anything from the BTT!”

Billy never saw Styles do anything, but he instantly felt the change and confirmed the feeling as the guards on the surveillance became confused and agitated.

“What did you do to stir up the hornets?” Billy asked. “They're all buzzin' mad now.”

“They can't see us anymore,” Styles smiled, flicking a few more switches and securing himself into the pilot's seat. “Full stealth.”

Billy followed Styles's lead and strapped himself into the co-pilot's seat. “We going somewhere?”

“Gonna get a better view,” Styles said, not even flinching as the sound of gunfire erupted around them.

Billy's nerves weren't quite as strong and his shoulders jerked continuously with each ricochet off the BTT's hull. “I assume from your calm that this baby can handle a little gunfire.” Billy shrieked as a much louder concussion rocked the aircraft.

“She can handle anything they can throw at us,” Styles said. “Al may have his faults, but his design of this sweet girl has none. It'll take an almost direct hit from a one kiloton nuclear warhead.”

Billy's stomach lurched as they suddenly were airborne and screaming away from the palace grounds. “That's impossible!”

Styles laughed. “We're Americans, for fuck's sake! Nothing's impossible!”

***

“GONE?” The Empress roared. “How can it be gone?!?”

“The pilot activated the stealth protocol and escaped, Your Highness,” Zverev answered. “The men couldn't respond fast enough.”

“Well, I hope your response was fast!” Natalya yelled.

“It was, Empress,” Zverev nodded. “All have been executed.”

“As they should be!” The Empress whirled about and stared hard at her brother. “How do we find them?”

“Find them?” Alexander laughed. “We don't. That's the point, Nat. It's undetectable. And fast as hell. They're halfway out of Russia by now.”

The Empress rushed her brother and grabbed him by the throat. “You and I both know they aren't!” she hissed in his face, a face quickly turning purple.

“I'm still unsure why I'm here,” Gelts spoke up from the corner of the room. “If you’re going to kill the man I'm supposed to watch over then you might as well kill me.”

“I'd love to,” the Empress snarled, releasing her brother. “But, Mr. Zverev believes you have value alive.” Gelts's brow wrinkled and he looked towards Zverev, but the Russian wouldn't meet his gaze. “He believes that as long as your fate is tied to the prince's, you'll help keep him in line and make sure he doesn't try to make a dramatic and fatal exit on his own.”

“I'm suicide watch?” Gelts asked.

“Something like that. He stays alive and you stay alive,” the Empress responded, bored with the subject. She took a seat at the long, ornate conference table and watched her brother as he sat rubbing his throat across from her. “You can make another, I assume.”

“Of course,” Alexander responded hoarsely. “But why should I?” He quickly waved off his sister's immediate response. “And don't say ‘to keep Mel alive’ or to keep myself alive or even to keep Gelts alive.”

“I'm touched,” Gelts sneered.

“Shut up,” both the Tartarov siblings said in unison.

“Give me one reason to do what you want, Nat. Just one reason.”

“Because you have nothing else, brother,” Natalya smiled. “Your club has been burned to the ground. All of your business contacts have been told you have been selling their secrets to the LOM.” Natalya's grin widened. “And I had Sasha executed. So there's no one to take care of you, Alexander. Your life is over. All you have is me. And your design.”

The door to the conference room opened and a page stepped inside cautiously. “They have arrived, Your Majesty.”

“Excellent! Send them in,” the Empress said, getting to her feet.

Alexander puzzled at who could be so important to make his sister stand and puzzled even more as three men were shown into the room. Mr. Brown Eyes, Mr. Continental and Mr. Plain all approached the Empress, kissing her hand one by one and taking their seats as they were offered to them.

“So,” Mr. Plain said. “This is the genius that can bring viable aircraft back into the theatre?”

“Theatre?” the prince asked. “Are we doing show tunes now?”

“War, Alexander,” the Empress chided. “The LOM has naval forces at the ready. Ground troops already in place to deploy. All we need to assure complete success is an air force that can strike at will and bring them to their knees.”

The three men watched Alexander intently and a very rare feeling gripped him: fear. “Bring who to their knees, dear sister? You've already nuked the American bases. Who's left?”

“The Chinese, of course,” Mr. Plain spoke up. “The Middle East is in ruins from centuries of fighting, so they were simple to overtake. India and Pakistan are a Dead Zone, which we've had under quarantine since the Brimstone Wars and Japan put itself in complete isolation, so they are an issue we will deal with later, however, talks are looking promising and they should be on board soon. Africa, of course, is happy to provide the world with the food and raw materials we need and has zero interest in politics or world aggression. Decade after decade of clan clashes took the fight right out of them. That leaves the Chinese. They are all that stand between us and complete control of the Earth.”

“You forgot to mention North America,” Alexander laughed. “Don't you want that wasteland too? Or is a bunch of radioactive rock not worth your effort.” The room grew very silent and Alexander's interest was immediately piqued. “What's in North America?”

“Nothing to concern yourself with,” Mr. Brown Eyes responded.

The prince examined the men closely, trying to figure out how they played in everything. “You aren't LOM or even LOMSD. Who are you?”

“Once again, Your Highness,” Mr Brown Eyes smiled. “Nothing to concern yourself with.”

“Like I said, brother, it's all to secure Russia's place. To make sure we are the one true superpower, not just one of the worthless LOM dogs fighting for scraps at the table,” Natalya said, her intense gaze suddenly maniacal. “We can have it all, Alexander! All the power, all the control! We don't have to share with any of those inbred throne monkeys! Or with the religions that forced us all into this mess in the first place! Mother Russia will have what she has wanted forever! Our Golden Age will be once again!”

“Jesus Christ,” Alexander whispered. “You want to bring back the Soviet state, don't you? The darkest moment in our history is what you consider our golden age? Have you lost your mind?”

“It will be different, Prince,” Mr. Continental grinned. “History has shown us what works and what doesn't. This time it will be a true Communist world, not a bastardized socialist bureaucracy that was an embarrassment to all!”

“You're all fucking bugshit nuts,” Alexander grimaced. “I don't want any part of this.”

“You don't have a choice!” the Empress roared.

“What about Australia?” Gelts spoke up suddenly. “Where do they fit into all this?”

“They are no concern at all,” Mr. Brown Eyes laughed. “Ever since they cut off ties to the world, in order to protect their own and their lands, they've barely been able to rub two sticks together to make fire. We'll let them continue to eat crocodile and play their didgeridoos. When it comes time to take what they have, we will easily walk in and crush them.”

“Huh,” Gelts laughed. “Guess you've never met an Aussie before.”

“Regardless of the state of boomerangland, I will still have nothing to do with this,” the prince said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “Might as well shoot me and Gelts right now.”

“Hey!” Gelts shouted.

The Empress activated a holo in the middle of the table. The image of Heather Walton, naked and strapped to a BC operating table, appeared. “Let's try a little motivation then, shall we? We'll start with Ms. Walton and then move onto sweet Mel if need be.”

Chapter Seventeen

The struggle towards consciousness was difficult, but Heather knew she had to wake up. She knew that if she wanted to see Melissa alive again, she would have to fight through the intense pain, fight through the blackness that pushed down on her and kept her mind from coming to the surface. She knew she would have to fight with everything she had in her.

“She's coming around, Doctor,” a voice echoed from far away.

“Excellent,” another voice responded. “We can record her reactions to pain stimulus and see if the nanotech has affected her nervous system as well.”

Heather heard all of this, but understood none of what was being said. All she could think about was that her body felt like it was on fire and her insides burned. She tried to move her arms, but found them unresponsive. She tried to kick out, but with the same lack of results.

“Ah, I see you are attempting one of your famed escapes,” the second voice said. “Do not bother, Ms. Walton, I have severed the tendons to your arms and your legs, just in case you came awake on us. Good thinking on my part, since the anesthetic should have kept you unconscious for hours longer. I also added a little something extra to dull those Ghost abilities of yours.”

Focusing every ounce of energy she had, Heather forced her eyes to open. She was instantly blinded by bright surgical lights. Trying to move her head about so she could asses her situation proved as useless as her attempts with her arms and legs. A man's face, half covered by a surgical mask, leaned into her line of vision, blocking the light for a moment.

“I have also severed the tendons to your neck,” the man said. “It's easier than trying to restrain you while we take a look at that new brain of yours.”

“New...?” Heather whispered, her throat a raspy, dry bed of glass.

“Oh, yes!” the man said excitedly. “We've taken chunk after chunk of it out to study and every time it grows back! It's quite remarkable!”

“Doctor,” the first voice interrupted, and Heather thought it might be a woman's voice, but she was still too groggy to truly know. “Doctor, her lower right leg has returned to full form. Shall I amputate again?”

“Please do, Ms. Solosky,” Doctor Stilig replied. “The more samples we have to work with the better.”

“What...are...you...doing to...me?” Heather struggled to say.

“Dissecting you for further study, of course,” the Doctor responded as the whir of a bone saw filled the room. “You are quite amazing. I am sure the person that developed this tech had no idea what would happen when it was introduced into the system of a Ghost. Microscopic robots inside a human genetically engineered to have complete physical control over metal! It's astounding!”

Heather felt herself jerk and buck and her vision was clouded by the red-black goo she began to cough up.

“Of course, the nanotech isn't made from BC,” Dr. Stilig said. “So, unfortunately there are some serious side effects. But, I doubt they will be fatal. At least not in the short term.”

The bone saw cut through her flesh and into her tibia. Heather tried not to scream against the pain, tried not to give the Doctor the sick satisfaction of proving that her nervous system was intact and working, but she could only hold out so long.

***

“Wake up,” Beth pleaded, shaking Melissa's still form. “Please Mel, please wake up.”

Melissa lay prone upon the concrete floor of the small cell they had been dumped into. There wasn't any light above and the room was only dimly lit by the hallway light filtering from under the cell door.

Beth shook Melissa again, with more force, but the girl didn't move. If it wasn't for her rhythmic breathing, Beth would have thought her dead.

“I've got to get us out of here,” she whispered, rising painfully to her feet.

Her mind felt fuzzy from whatever they had been drugged with and she wobbled a bit on unsteady legs. Slowly and methodically she ran her hands over the walls, the door, the floor, trying to figure out some way to escape, but realized she didn't even know what she was looking at. Who was she kidding? She wasn't a Ghost. She'd only just found out she was American. She slumped against the wall and tried not to cry. She knew she had something in her that could help; she proved it on the beach back in the Netherlands. Of course, none of that had been conscious, it had just happened.

“Please,” she whispered in the dark trying to coax that other part of her out. “Please. I need help.”

***

“Hear that, Brian?” the woman asked, slapping Brian across the face, bringing him out of his quiet daze. “Time to go to work.”

“How many fingers do I have left?” Brian asked.

“Does it matter?” the woman answered.

“To me, yes, it matters,” Brian responded, waiting for whatever pain the woman was going to inflict upon him. Instead he felt her straddle his lap, reaching down and unbuttoning his fly.

“Oh, Brian, I don't think you need fingers for what's next,” the woman sighed into his ear as she reached into his pants, grabbing his surprisingly responsive penis. “I think you have what we need right here.”

***

Beth felt strange. It was a feeling she knew before. A feeling she had when she visited...um, his name escaped her. Her stomach began to flutter and her skin flushed. She got to her feet and put her hands against the door, slowly slapping the surface to a primal rhythm.

“Hey,” she called out, her voice suddenly a half octave lower. Not a girl's voice, but a woman's voice. “Hey! Anyone out there? I need some help, please. I need help...bad.”

***

Brian's breathing quickened as the woman stroked him, up and down, up and down. “What are you doing?”

“Did you miss that class in school, Brian?” the woman mocked. “Do you want me stop? Is touching you in your bathing suit area making you uncomfortable?”

Brian wanted to say yes, but knew it would come out sounding insincere. “No, but I don't understand.”

“Your job isn't to understand, Brian,” the woman cooed as she yanked at his pants, pulling them down around his ankles. “You job is to help her.”

***

“Hello?” Beth said, her breathing deepening, her legs getting warm. She could feel herself getting wet, and while alarmed, she couldn't help but go with it. Her fingers traced the outline of the door. “If there is anyone out there, I think you’ve made a mistake. I'm not going to hurt anyone. I'm not going to try to escape.”

She slumped to the ground, her back against the door. “Please open up. I know you can see me. I'm harmless.” Her hands moved to her belly, feeling the muscles under her skin and she shivered at the sensation.

***

“Are you fucking watching this?” a guard said, elbowing the other guard on duty in the security holo room. “I think one of those girls is about to beat off.”

“Girls don't beat off,” the other guard answered, lazily glancing over at the holo. “They finger themselves.”

“Same thing,” the first guard said, his eyes glued to the image. “Either way, this is getting hot.”

The second guard laughed. “Go have some fun if you want. I'll lock you in so they can't go anywhere.”

“What if it's a trap?” the first guard asked.

The second guard laughed as he watched Beth's hands go between her crotch and her body jerked with pleasure. “Then it's a pretty good fucking trap!”

***

The woman's fingers traced up and down Brian's thighs, caressing his balls and moving across his penis as it throbbed. He shuddered again and again.

“Hold on now, stud,” the woman laughed. “Don't get too excited. We have work to do. Pace yourself.”

“I don't get this,” Brian sighed. “I don't get this at all.”

Wet lips kissed the head of his penis and he shook all over.

“You're about to get it,” the woman laughed. “You're about to get all of it.”

***

Beth heard the lock mechanism click and she reluctantly pushed herself away from the door, letting the guard squeeze through into the cell.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” the guard asked, his hands fingering the clasp to his uniform.

For a moment, Beth grew confused. What was she doing? Was she about to masturbate? Was she doing that to lure in the guard? There was sure to be at least one other guard watching. What was she trying to gain? All of this went through her mind as she got to her feet and slowly removed her panties, kicking them off towards the guard.

“I have no idea what I'm doing,” she said stepping to the man, putting her arms around him, her hands falling down his back and gripping his butt. “But, does it really matter? I'm game to whatever right now.”

The man quickly fumbled with his uniform, trying to get his pants open. “You know you can't get out of here, right? There's ten levels of security between you and the outside.”

Beth grabbed him hard and pulled him towards her. “Right now, there's nothing between us.” She kissed him deeply and he lifted her from the ground, her legs wrapping tightly around his waist.

***

“Jesus,” Brian whispered as the woman's lips and tongue moved up and down his penis, making it near impossible to breath. “Christ.”

The woman stopped and Brian couldn't tell where she was. The cool air dried the saliva from his cock, adding even more sensation.

Suddenly she gripped him, straddling his lap once again and before he knew it he was inside her as she ground down slowly.

“Help her, Brian,” she cooed. “Help her get over her blocks and do what she needs to do.”

***

Beth pulled her mouth away from the man, and still gripped about his waist, she reached down and felt his stiff cock. “Don't move,” she whispered as she put the man inside her and began to hammer away as if her life depended on it.

***

The woman ground and ground and soon Brian began to thrust, matching her rhythm. He knew he was getting close and struggled to hang on.

“Not yet, Brian. You aren't done yet.”

He felt her tighten about him, squeezing the base of his penis with her muscles, keeping him from going over the edge.

***

“Holy shit!” the guard cried out as he fell back against the wall, nearly toppling over from Beth's enthusiastic pounding. “Holy shit!”

Beth felt herself grow so wet she wasn't sure she would be able to feel anything for much longer. She increased her speed and pulled the man closer to her, trying to get the best position possible.

***

“I can't hold on!” Brian screamed as he climaxed.

***

Beth screamed, her body reaching orgasm and before she knew what she was doing her hands had moved to the guard's head and she twisted violently, snapping his neck instantly.

The two of them collapsed to the floor as the guard's life left him.

Beth quickly pushed herself away from the dead man, shocked at what she had done. Her legs were weak from orgasm and she had a hard time crawling over to her panties. She frantically tried to pull them on, but her coordination was off.

“Ugh,” Melissa moaned, shakily pushing herself up to a semi-seated position. “What's going on? Is that you, freak?”

“Yeah,” Beth said quietly.

“Where are we?” Melissa asked, rubbing at her face. Then she saw the form upon the ground. “Is that guy dead?”

Beth didn't answer as she continued to struggle with her underwear and her sanity.

“What are you doing with your pants?” Melissa asked. “Why does it smell like fucking in here?”

***

“Oh, fuck!” the guard yelled as he watched Beth snap his colleague's neck on the holo. He shoved his own penis back into his uniform and slammed the alarm activation key.

***

A piercing whistle filled the cell and both girls covered their ears.

“What the fuck is going on?” Melissa yelled. “Did you just fuck that guy?”

Beth didn't answer as the world began to swim around her and she felt that feeling from the beach come over her.

***

The woman held Brian inside her as she nibbled at his ear. “What's happening, Brian?”

Brian felt himself move to the other place, to the place with the girl and he knew what had happened, what the girl had done while he and the woman had done the same thing.

“There’re alarms,” Brian responded. “I hear alarms.”

“Good,” the woman said, finally releasing him and pushing away from his lap. “That means they will be coming. No pun intended.”

“What happens when they get there?” Brian asked “What do I help her do?”

The woman gave the tip of Brian's still hard penis a playful flick. “Kill them, Brian. Kill them all.”

***

Beth stood up and began to search the dead man's body.

“What are you looking for?” Melissa asked, getting to her feet and taking a deep breath, trying to fight off the dizziness. She waved her hand in front of her nose. “Damn, girl! You're gonna need to wash! That's some crazy funk coming off your twat!”

“Shut the fuck up, Mel and help me find some BC,” Beth growled.

Melissa looked at Beth sharply, unsure of her tone of voice.

“You feeling okay?” Melissa asked. “You sound different.”

“Am I okay?” Beth laughed as Melissa began to help search the guard's corpse for any trace of BC they might be able to use. “I just fucked some random stranger for no reason then snapped his neck like it was nothing when I came!”

“Kinky,” Mel said. “But, I guess it did the trick.”

The sound of boots echoed down the hall.

“Here they come!” Mel called out stepping away from the door. “I hope you have a plan beyond getting your homicidal jollies off!”

Beth looked down at the dead man and kicked his face in frustration. Teeth shattered and clattered to the floor. Beth grinned and picked up the teeth, seeing the glint of BC fillings. “Let's hear it for bad hygiene.”

“What are you going to do with those?” Melissa asked, looking at the six molars in Beth's hands, watching the BC melt from them and reform.

The door burst open and Beth flung the BC at the first two guards that came through, mentally directing the metal at a velocity that defied physics. The BC became fully formed slugs and ripped through each man's left eye and exploded out the backs of their heads then redirected and shot through the next two men behind them and the next two behind them and the next two and the next two and the next two until all that filled the hallway was corpse after corpse.

Melissa stared at Beth in awe. “Who the holy fuck are you, freak?”

“Don't call me freak,” Beth answered, not looking at Melissa as she stepped over the corpses and out into the brightness of the hallway.

Chapter Eighteen

Alexander watched the holo as Dr. Stilig and his assistant removed piece after piece of Heather's body while she screamed in agony. He couldn't help but feel a bit of pride at the fact that no matter what they did to her, she never begged for mercy or asked them to stop.

In turn, Mr. Brown Eyes watched Alex's face, trying to gauge whether or not the torture of his estranged wife was having any effect. He quickly came to a conclusion. “Turn it off. She just keeps growing the parts back. It's not like they can really have any effect on her.”

The holo disappeared and the prince was forced to focus on the three men, his sister and Zverev.

“So? What now?” Alexander asked, leaning back in his chair. “You start in on Mel?” He smiled. “Don't you get it? I don't give a shit about anyone but myself. And even that is stretching it.”

“Should I begin to cut Mr. Gelts, Your Highness?” Zverev asked. “Maybe seeing it in person will motivate the prince.”

“Don't bother,” Alexander responded. “Listen, this could go on forever. How about we strike a deal?”

“No deals,” the Empress snapped. “Your deals are fraught with pitfalls and loopholes. I know you too well, Alexander.”

“But I think you'll like this deal,” the prince said, his smile widening. “Plus, I don't think it’s entirely your say anymore, is it?” Alexander turned to the three men. “How about you boys? You up for a little bargaining?”

“We will listen, but make no promises,” Mr. Continental replied. “Go ahead.”

“I will give you the design to the BTT and you let us all go,” Alexander said. “No way to build loopholes into that deal.”

“You'll give us the design right now?” Mr. Plain asked with great suspicion. “First, how do we know the design you give us will work? Second, why would you do that now, when we can just kill you once we have the design? Third, what can you possibly gain by giving us the plans willfully? What's the change of heart?”

“No change of heart. I'm just bored.”

“Well, that rings true,” Natalya laughed. “God forbid Alexander get bored!”

“It works like this: you jack me into whatever you want and I'll mentally upload the design. You can study the design to see if it is what you are looking for. Once you know I haven't screwed you, you let me and everyone else go.”

“The catch?” Mr. Brown Eyes asked.

“No catch. Except you can't fly the thing without the right pilot,” Alexander said.

“Then the cowboy stays!” Natalya barked.

“That's not really an option since he's already escaped. No, what I mean is that once I am away, I'll send you the code that will unlock the design for the console interface. You don't really need the code, since I'm sure you can have a Tech figure it out in a few weeks, but I know you are all on a deadline here and assuring our safety is the only way you get the code right away.” Alexander stood up and Zverev moved forward. “Don't worry, Zev, I'm not doing anything, just need to pee. I'll let you think about it while I'm relieving myself.”

The Empress nodded and Zverev tapped at his com, calling an escort into the conference room.

“You're getting what you want. Don't be fools and throw it all away because you want me dead, Nat,” Alex said as he was led from the conference room.

The door closed behind Alex and he glanced over at the two guards leading him towards the closest lavatory. “Do I know you men?”

“No, Your Highness,” one answered. “We are new since you last visited.”

“Married? Children?”

“No, sir,” the other answered.

“Good,” the prince said. “Makes this easier.” Alexander spun about, jamming both fists into the guards' throats, crushing their windpipes. “Sorry it had to be so painful. But, look on the bright side, you'll be dead in minutes from lack of air and then you won't care.”

The prince took both guards' sidearms and began to run away quickly down the hall. “Sorry Gelts,” he said with a glance back at the receding conference room door. As he ran, he bit down hard on his far back right molar again and again until it cracked. “You better be fucking listening, Styles.”

***

“There he is,” Styles smiled.

“Who? Where?” Billy asked, looking out the windshield of the aircraft. “I don't see shit.”

“Al. He just activated his emergency locator,” Styles said as the BTT banked hard and accelerated. “He must have found a way out and now he's calling for a ride.”

“What about the others? Heather and the girls?”

“Fuck if I know,” Styles replied. “We'll find out when we get there.”

***

The Empress began to pace. “Where are they?”

“He must have had to do more than pee,” Zverev answered, but his tone belied that even he didn't believe that. “I will send a man to check.”

“He's long gone,” Gelts said and all eyes turned on him. “Like I said, I really don't know why any of you thought he'd give a shit about me.”

“He does care for the women, though,” Mr. Plain said. “He'll try to rescue them.”

“Find him! I want his head on...” the Empress stopped as she saw the look on Zverev's face. “What is it? What has happened?”

Zverev listened to the report coming in over his com and activated the Shop's security holos. Everyone in the room gasped.

“Can I at least get a quick bullet to the brain?” Gelts asked. “I mean, come on, you’ve been dragging this out long enough.”

Zverev pulled his sidearm and fired, blowing Gelts’s brains out the back of his head and splattering the wall behind.

“Dammit, Zverev!” the Empress yelled. “That wallpaper is irreplaceable!”

Zverev wasn't listening as he began to bark orders into his com and rushed from the room.

“The Americans. They are like evil little cockroaches,” Mr. Continental said. “You try to kill them and try to kill them and there is always one left that spreads its disease.”

The men and the Empress watched in shock at the image of Beth, with Melissa in tow, brutally cutting down the Shop guards.

***

“Keep behind me!” Beth shouted as she focused on the BC in the Shop’s walls, pulling it out with a thought, forming it with her mind and whipping it out in long, sharp filaments towards the oncoming guards.

Body parts flew everywhere as the BC line sliced through limbs, heads and torsos, splattering the walls with red and making the floor a slick, but sticky, mess.

“How are you doing that?” Melissa yelled staying close to Beth’s back as the BC sliced and diced.

“I don’t know!” Beth replied. “But it feels good!”

Melissa grabbed up some of the fallen BC and concentrated on reforming it. Her head began to hurt as she focused on a design she had been thinking of for a while. It took a few moments, moments in which the body count grew and she had to pay attention to where she was walking, lest she stumble on a stray forearm or head, but she finally worked the BC into what she wanted.

She smiled as the biochrome swirled about her hands, her wrists and up her arms, stretching across her back and creating a support structure for the twenty-four inch long blades that extended from each arm.

“Let me take a shot!” Melissa yelled, taking point. “I need to let off some steam too! Not all of us got laid today!”

“Hey!” Beth shouted. “It’s not like I really had control over that. It just sort of happened!”

“I’m sure that’s a story you’ll tell yourself for the rest of your life,” Melissa laughed, rolling under a swipe from a guard and slicing his belly open, letting his intestines rush forth onto the floor. “But whatever, if your pussy gets us out of here then yay for your pussy!”

Melissa spun the blades in front of her, blocking the oncoming barrage of bullets that the squad of guards let loose from down the hall. What slugs did get past her, Beth was able to pick off.

“Start using more of your designs! Don’t think, just let the BC flow!” Beth shouted as she skewered five guards in a row, ripping them in half as the BC was yanked up through their torsos and out the necks. The resulting spray of blood was nearly comical if it hadn’t been for the choked off screams of agony.

“Look who’s all expert and shit!” Melissa mocked trying to concentrate on the fight while letting the Ghost in her take over the melding of BC to her body. She felt the weight as Beth directed stream after stream of BC to her, letting it wrap her legs, her waist, her midsection, her chest and up around her neck and head. For a moment, Melissa thought she’d made a mistake and was going to suffocate, but in a split second she could see perfectly and the weight of the BC disappeared as her design took shape.

“Amazing, Mel!” Beth called, watching the BC turn from raw form into a sleek, form fitting body suit of metallic black and grey. Bullets bounced off Melissa harmlessly, although their force made her stumble more than once until she got used to the impact.

“I don’t think I’ll even have bruises!” Melissa shouted, then pointed down the hallway. “Holy Shit! Artillery!”

Beth watched three guards brace themselves and launch a series of RPGs at their position. A wall of BC flowed from the ground and blocked the projectiles, but the ensuing shock wave sent both girls sprawling.

“This way,” Melissa said, shaking her head, trying to clear the ringing. She grabbed Beth, who was having a hard time focusing, and yanked her to her feet, sprinting towards an open side door in the hall.

The two girls slammed the door shut and Beth set to work bracing it against the oncoming attack.

“Shit!” Melissa swore as she looked about the small supply room they had chosen. “Looks like we’re going up through the air system.”

Beth glanced at the ceiling and smiled. “No, I don’t think so.” She concentrated her energy and focused on all the BC around her until she isolated the air ducts themselves. Centering her hands in front of her chest, she took a deep breath then let her arms fall to her sides. The ceiling exploded and the duct work fell to the floor in a shower of plaster and metal. Beth concentrated harder and the entire duct work collapsed, ripping through not only the ceiling but the walls it was over, shredding its way from room to room, creating a narrow path for Melissa and Beth to follow.

“We need to hurry,” Beth said, pulling Melissa along through the jagged gap in the wall into an adjoining room and through the next gap in that room’s wall. “They’ll catch on soon enough, if they haven’t caught us on holo already!”

Melissa had to laugh to herself. If she had thought this was how the day would turn out when she first helped Beth pick out a riding outfit, she would have called herself crazy.

***

Brian was finding it hard to breathe. The emotions, the adrenaline surges running through him, were overwhelming, not so much because of their intensity, but because they weren’t his. Unlike the last time he had helped the girl, the other consciousness, where he was in semi-control, this time the control seemed to have been taken from him. The girl was working on her own and he was just a passenger, just there to observe and give a nudge if she needed it, which as the battle and violence wore on, she needed less and less.

“She’s getting it, isn’t she Brian?” the woman asked.

“Yes,” Brian answered reluctantly. “What does that mean for me?”

“You don’t need to worry about that…yet,” the woman answered and Brian swore he heard a note of regret. “Neither of us needs to worry right now.”

Brian focused on the girl’s actions, her thoughts and movements. “She’s incredible,” he said. “I didn’t know Ghosts could do what she is doing.”

“They can’t, Brian. She isn’t a Ghost,” the woman answered and Brian heard the distinct sound of a blade being pulled from a sheath. “She is something new. She is the future.”

The pain was excruciating as the blade sliced into his side, nicking a rib.

“WHY?!?” he cried out.

“Because it’s the only way to keep you focused and not get us lost,” the woman said, her breathing growing harsh and ragged as she stabbed him again. “We can’t get lost, Brian. Not yet.”

Chapter Nineteen

“How close are you?” Alexander shouted.

“We’re right above you!” Styles called back over the com. “Stay put and I’ll drop the cage!”

Alex looked up into the twilight sky and waited for the cage to appear. In seconds a hole opened meters above and a BC cage quickly descended. Once next to him, he yanked open the door and stepped inside. “Bring me up!”

The cage lifted, but not before a contingent of guards spotted him and opened fire. Alex ducked down, trying to make himself as small a target as possible, but he felt one then two, three, four slugs rip into his legs and back. He cried out as the cage was sucked up into the BTT and the hole closed below, the sound of gunfire nearly muted completely.

“Jesus, Al! You’re bleeding like a fucking stuck pig!” Billy yelled, helping the prince from the cage.

“Yeah…bullets…will do that,” Alex struggled to say before collapsing into Billy’s arms.

“Styles!” Billy yelled. “Al’s hurt bad! I’ll do what I can, but we need to find Heather and the girls and get the fuck out of here!”

“That’s always been the plan!” Styles shouted back over the com. “I’ve got every sensor this thing has searching for them, but I’m coming up blank!”

Blank. The word triggered a thought in Billy’s overtaxed brain. “Blank! Look for the blank spot! Find the one place none of the sensors can penetrate! They’ll be there!”

“Good call, pardner,” Styles replied, immediately finding the dead spot in the sensor’s search. The Shop.

***

“She’s passed out again, Dr. Stilig,” Ms. Soslosky announced. “And her vital signs are weakening.”

“Weakening?” the Doctor asked, Heather’s liver in his hands for the fourth time that day. “Really?”

He set the slab of dark meat into a tray and stepped to the medical console, studying the information before him. “Hmmm, I wonder if as her body runs out of energy, the nanotech does also?”

“Should we let her rest?”

“No, no, we have too much work to do,” the Doctor answered coldly. “If she dies, she dies. We can try to resuscitate her at that point.”

“Won’t the Empress be upset?”

“When isn’t she upset?” the Doctor laughed as he cracked open Heather’s rib cage once more and began to remove her left lung. Again.

***

“Your man Zverev had better get this under control,” Mr. Plain growled. “If we lose the BTT then our plans will be severely set back.”

“Do not lecture me!” the Empress screamed. “I am the ruler of all of Russia and you are just a commoner! I will not be spoken to that way!”

“Get used to it, Your Highness,” Mr. Continental said. “What did you think was going to happen when we return Russia to its socialist hay day? Did you think you would keep your throne?”

“Of course! That was the plan, you idiot!” Natalya shrieked. “The people need a ruler! They need someone to lord over them and history has proven that commoners cannot do it effectively enough! They lose power eventually and the country, and the entire planet, devolves into chaos! The people need their Empress!”

The three men looked at each other gravely.

“That is unfortunate, Natalya,” Mr. Brown Eyes said, watching as the informal use of the Empress’s name nearly sent her into a fit. “We had assumed, and incorrectly as it turns out, that you understood you would be a figurehead in the transition, but once the dust had settled your title, and the throne itself, would no longer exist.”

“But, the people?” the Empress cried, feeling her world crumble about her.

“The people despise you,” Mr. Plain laughed. “They want nothing to do with you. Vasily was always their favorite and Alexander amused them. But you? You just plain terrify them all.”

“I believe the term they use is ‘bat shit crazy’,” Mr. Continental added.

The Empress stormed from the room shrieking, her hands pulling at her hair.

“Well, that should throw her off kilter for a while,” Mr. Brown Eyes said.

“She’s an egomaniacal idiot,” Mr. Plain said. “She has no idea what is going on beyond her own sheltered world.”

“True. By the time we are done, none of the monarchs will know what happened,” Mr. Continental added. “We’ll have almost total control of the world. It’s almost too easy.”

“Before we congratulate ourselves, let me contact Ms. Isely and see if any of her projects are ready for deployment,” Mr. Plain said. “Whether we have the BTT or not, we can’t be stopped now.”

***

“Where are we going?” Melissa shouted as she and Beth sprinted between the shredded walls of the connecting rooms, bullets ripping through wood, metal and plasterboard in their wake as the guards in the hallway desperately tried to gun them down.

“I have no idea!” Beth yelled over her shoulder. “Hopefully the right way!”

“You don’t know? Then why the fuck are we running this way?”

“Because it feels right!” Beth yelled as they came to the end of their improvised passageway and burst into a bend in the hallway. Melissa leapt towards Beth, covering her body with her own, shielding her from the rifle fire that exploded around them.

Beth closed her eyes and focused on all the BC in their area. “Hold on! Things are about to get shredded!”

Shards of BC ripped through the walls, ceiling and floor as Beth called it to her and Melissa. The guards positioned between the BC and the girls found themselves torn, sliced and minced into bloody pieces before the BC stopped in midair, melted, and created a protective dome around Beth and Melissa.

More rockets screamed towards the girls, but the explosions never touched them.

“They’re gonna blow their own fucking building up!” Melissa said. “And us in it!”

“Not if my imaginings are correct!” Beth replied. “This dome should hold against a nuke!”

“Great! But that doesn’t help us find Heather!”

“Is that who we are looking for?” Beth asked, crouching to watch the Shop guards begin to surround and approach the dome. “I wasn’t sure. I thought we were trying to get out of here!”

“And go where? They’ll hunt us down and kill us eventually, even with your freak skills! We need a plan! We need Heather!”

“How do you know she’s in here?”

Melissa grinned. “Like you said, ‘because it feels right’.”

Beth thought for a moment, trying to block out the continual sound of gunfire and ricochets. “Can you make a com?”

“Sure. That’s basic BC stuff, like back in Mr. Weber’s class,” Melissa answered. “Why? Heather won’t be able to hear us.”

“No, but Billy might,” Beth said. “More importantly Mr. Styles might and he has the way out.”

Melissa retracted the blades into her suit, focusing instead on a miniscule piece of BC in her closed fist, trying to remember the exact specifications for an American, closed-channel com. She opened her hand and looked at the com that had formed. “This better work!”

***

“Okay, I’ve got the bleeding stopped, but you need to stay put,” Billy said. “My med skills are less than adequate and I couldn’t work out all the slugs. You could have one sitting next to an artery. Wrong move and you become a bloody balloon!”

“Great…bedside…manner,” Alex quipped from the blood soaked seat he was reclined in. “Get me…something…for the…pain.”

“No can do, buddy,” Billy said. “I, um, went through the scab stock.”

“Fucking…junky,” Alex gasped. “Booze me, then.”

“Yeah, that’s not such a great idea,” Billy apologized. “The alcohol will thin your blood and could worsen any internal bleeding.”

“Thought…you stopped…the bleeding.”

“Junky, remember? You really want to trust my med skills?” Billy smiled, getting up and walking to the cockpit. “Stay put. I’ll see what the plan is and be right back.” He opened and closed the door quickly behind him, Styles having programmed everyone’s biometrics into the BTT’s security protocols. “We need help, Styles. Al is fucked. I think I only got half the bleeding stopped. He could be dead before the night is out.”

“Shit fuck,” Styles swore. “We’re above what they call the Shop, but fuck if I know how we can get in there and get them girls out. We start blasting and we could kill them all.”

The com buzzed once, stopped, buzzed again. The two men looked at each other.

“You gonna get that?” Styles asked Billy.

“Me? No one’s calling me. You get it,” Billy replied, holding his hands up.

Styles sighed. “This is Styles, who the fuck is this?”

“Thank God!” Melissa yelled. “Where the fuck have you been? We’ve been calling and calling!!!”

“Who is this?!?” Styles shouted over the static that was nearly overwhelming the transmission.

“It’s Mel, you fucking overgrown cowboy!” she shouted. “We’re trapped in some fucking facility.” Mel stopped for a moment and Beth’s voice could be faintly heard. “Freak says it’s called The Shop. Whatever it’s fucking called we’re trying to find Heather, but we’re gonna need help getting the fuck out of here!”

“Hold on! Don’t move! I’m going to push a scan to your location!” Styles shouted, as Billy watched helpless, unable to keep track of what was going on. Styles seemed not to do anything, but suddenly a holo appeared in the middle of the cockpit, showing the many levels of The Shop. A small blue dot began to blink on the third level below ground. “Okay, I was able to get a scan through. I see y’all. I have no idea where Heather is, though.”

“She’s a Ghost,” Billy said. “And she has that nano-shit in her. Look for the most fucked up signal you can find.”

Styles mentally adjusted the holo and found several fucked up signals three floors below the girls. “Okay, I can’t pinpoint her, but it looks like they keep all the special cases three floors down.”

“Special cases? What the fuck does that mean?” Melissa yelled.

“I don’t know, but there are quite a few messed up signatures down there, so watch yourselves,” Styles said. “We’ll be waiting up here. We’re in stealth mode, so they can’t see us, but it’s only a matter of time before they just start blasting randomly. Hurry.” The static became stronger until the signal was lost. “Shit. They’re gone.”

Billy looked out the windshield at the innocuous building below. “I hope Beth has more magic up her sleeve.”

***

“Fuck!” Melissa shouted. “I lost them!”

“Did he find Heather?” Beth asked, her eyes never leaving the guards.

“Yeah,” Melissa said. “We have to go down. This dome doesn’t happen to have a lift in it does it?”

“No, no lift, but I think I can work around that,” Beth answered. “Hang on.”

Beth closed her eyes and concentrated on all the surrounding BC she could feel, bringing it to her and the dome, creating a full bubble about the girls. At the same time she concentrated on the BC itself, trying to apply everything she had learned in basic physics, transforming the density of the BC into a much heavier substance.

Melissa laughed at the looks on the guards’ faces as the floor below them all began to groan from the extra weight. “They aren’t liking that!”

Several of the guards began to back away quickly, some even decided to flat out run as the others yelled after them.

“One more piece and we go down,” Beth smiled. “Hang on.”

“To what?” Melissa shouted. But she never got an answer, as Beth mentally dissolved the support structure beneath the bubble, sending them plummeting through the floor.

They slammed into the floor below, crushing two techs working on a repair project, sending flames shooting towards the hole above them and the other techs in the room running for the emergency exit.

“Two more to go,” Beth called out. Melissa struggled to get herself upright.

They fell again as Beth collapsed the structure in that floor. They landed in the middle of what looked like the guards’ locker room, startling several well-muscled men.

“Nice,” Melissa grinned, as all of the guards in the process of suiting up were too stunned to cover themselves. “Thanks, freak. I needed that.”

“Hold on. One more,” Beth said, grinning also.

The bubble fell one last time, landing in a large, dark room, the dimensions unknown as the room was nothing but shadow past three meters.

“Okay,” Melissa asked. “Where are we now?”

“Don’t know,” Beth said, trying to peer into the gloom about them.

Melissa looked up and waved at the couple of guards, still naked, curious enough to look over the edge of the hole. “Well, we need to get moving quickly. They aren’t going to gawk forever.”

Beth let one side of the bubble fall away and the girls stepped from it. “Let’s find the wall and follow it until we hit the exit.”

Several low growls and hisses made both girls freeze instantly. “That doesn’t sound good,” Melissa whispered. The growls turned into shrieks, and Beth and Melissa could see shapes rushing at them from the darkness. “Back in the bubble! Back in the bubble!” Melissa grabbed Beth and yanked her inside. “Seal it! Fucking seal it!”

Beth was able to get the opening closed just before several dozen badly mutilated and disfigured people slammed into the sides, their hands clawing and scratching at the surface, leaving bloody streaks and bits of grey flesh.

“Oh, that’s not good at all,” Melissa said, her mouth agape at the horrifying sight in front of them. “What the fuck are those things?”

“I think they were people at one time,” Beth answered.

“Well, they’re fucked up now,” Melissa stated. “And in our way. Can you put some guns on this bouncing ball of joy?”

“I wouldn’t know where to begin, but I think I have a different idea. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” Melissa asked, puzzled.

“Sorry to them for this,” Beth said as midway up the bubble a long continuous blade formed, slicing the creatures in half. Guts and offal spilled from the decayed and putrid torsos of the afflicted people, covering the ground with rotten organs and congealed blood and fluids.

“Oh, that’s just wrong,” Melissa gasped, covering her mouth, trying not to vomit.

“Which part? The guts and blood or the fact that they are all still moving?” Beth asked, her voice shaky and stunned as she reached out and grabbed onto Melissa’s arm. The two girls cringed as several of the creatures pulled their severed torsos towards the bubble, their grey-fleshed arms pulling them along leaving trails of black fluid behind them.

“Oh…fuck,” Melissa cursed quietly. “What do we do now?” Shouts from above drew their attention away from the grotesque spectacle and to the hole in the ceiling. A hole now surrounded by well armed guards, several of which held rocket launchers. “Are they going to try to blast us again?”

On Melissa’s last words, rockets shot through the hole, impacting with the BC bubble and exploding immediately. Several rockets shot past the bubble, vaporizing the wriggling corpses instantly.

“Problem solved,” Beth said. “Except for them upstairs.”

“Can you make this roll?” Melissa asked, cringing with each rocket explosion, her eyes fixed on a severed head, the jaws still moving up and down, up and down until it was consumed by fire.

Beth concentrated hard and the bubble started to rock back and forth, slowly at first then with more and more urgency. “Shove against that side!”

Melissa pushed against one side and Beth joined her, their weight adding to the momentum, and the bubble began to roll, crushing the few body parts that hadn’t been scorched into ash. The girls shoved and pumped their legs, gaining speed quickly until it was too much for them to handle and they were both caught up in the spinning. They rolled over each other until the bubble slammed to a halt against a far wall.

“Get off me!” Melissa shouted, shoving Beth’s ass out of her face. “You need a good scrub!”

“You’re not exactly roses, either!” Beth snapped back, opening the bubble and tumbling to the ground. “Come on!”

Beth ripped a hole in the wall and yanked Melissa to her feet, shoving her through the hole and into a brightly lit hallway. Alarms screeched shrilly as the girls sprinted down the hall, both praying they were going towards where Heather was being held.

Chapter Twenty

“The Shop has been breached and fires are being reported,” Ms. Solosky stated as she checked a readout on one of the monitors. “We need to evacuate.”

“Very well,” the Doctor responded. “I believe we have done all we can here.” He looked down at Heather’s still form, her heart having flatlined minutes earlier just after her body had reconstructed itself one last time. “Bring the sample canisters. We can’t leave those behind. They hold the nanotech in the flesh. Perfect carriers, really. The Empress should be pleased.”

“But Doctor, we have to evacuate,” Ms. Solosky exclaimed. “We can’t struggle with a sample cart.”

Dr. Stilig gripped a scalpel in his right hand, his index finger running up and down the BC handle. “If you aren’t going to assist then there isn’t much point to you, is there?”

She watched the scalpel and quickly moved to the cart, activating the door and pushing it out into the hallway.

Dr. Stilig turned and stared at Heather for a moment. “So remarkable,” he said quietly. “Too bad you didn’t survive. I would have loved to ask a few questions.” He reached out and slowly stroked Heather’s matted, bloody hair. “So remarkable.”

Heather’s eyes shot open and her body began to thrash against the restraints.

“Holy mother of God…” Dr. Stilig exclaimed, crossing himself and backing away towards the door.

Heather hissed and growled, bloody foam flying from her mouth. Her entire body tensed as she fought against the straps holding her down, her eyes never leaving the doctor.

“What is it, Doctor?” Ms. Solosky asked, looking back inside the room, her hands flying to her mouth. “But she’s dead!”

“She’s like one of the afflicted we have been studying!” Dr. Stilig cried. “Oh, God! What have we done! She can regenerate! How can this happen!” He stumbled into his assistant, knocking them both out of the room and onto the hallway floor. “She must have been exposed at some point! We have to seal the room and purge it! We can’t let her escape!”

“Can’t let who escape?” Melissa’s voice asked coolly as she and Beth came down the hall towards the doctor and his assistant.

“Who are…?” the Doctor asked, getting to his feet and reaching for the door controls. BC shot from the wall and slapped his hand away creating a large gash that poured blood instantly. Heather’s growls grew into a crescendo of rage and hunger, as her eyes watched the blood drip onto the floor.

Ms. Solosky got to her feet, hands held out, and approached the girls. “You can’t go in there! She’s infected! She isn’t alive anymore! You have to run!”

Melissa answered the woman with a swift roundhouse kick to the face, slamming her head against the wall. As the woman slid into an unconscious heap, Melissa stepped past her and peered into the room.

“Stop!” the Doctor warned. “If she gets near you she will attack! She doesn’t know who you are anymore!”

Melissa tried to shove past the Doctor, but he slashed out with the scalpel. The blade slid harmlessly off the protective suit Melissa had created and she grabbed his wrist, snapping it as she yanked back and down. The Doctor cried out in pain and stumbled backwards into the room and against the operating table. He instinctively reached back to brace himself and Heather’s jaws clamped down on his bleeding hand, ripping the flesh and crushing bone.

“GOD! NO!” he screamed, struggling to get his hand out from Heather’s grinding teeth. “She’s killed me! I’ll be dead within twenty four hours!”

Melissa looked at her aunt and tears welled in her eyes. “What did you do to her?” She grabbed the doctor by the throat and shoved his face into Heather’s. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?”

Heather instantly let go of the hand and bit into the doctor’s cheek, thrashing her head back and forth, ripping the flesh right off. Stilig screamed and tried to push away, but Melissa held him tight, letting Heather get bite after bite of the doctor’s soft flesh.

“Mel! Stop!” Beth cried, grabbing Melissa and pulling her away. The man collapsed to the floor, screaming in pain as he tried to clutch his shredded face with his mangled hand. Heather snarled and grunted as she hungrily chewed on the chunks of flesh she had torn away.

“You fucking monster! What did you do to her?” Melissa kicked out, slamming her boots into the man’s midsection. She struck again and again, connecting with his chest, his neck, his face. Beth struggled to pull her far enough away so she couldn’t do anymore damage.

“Stop! He can get us out of here!” Beth yelled, slapping Melissa’s face roughly, trying to bring the girl back to her senses.

“I’ll fucking kill him!” Melissa shouted, but no longer lashing out, some of the fight gone as she watched Heather’s gore smeared face snarling at her.

“I...can’t…let you…leave,” Dr. Stilig struggled to say. “Not…with her.”

“He’s right,” Ms. Solosky said from behind them, her face white with fear and bloody from Melissa’s attack, as she slowly pushed herself to her feet. “She can infect everyone. You can’t let her leave.”

“Infect? What are you talking about?” Beth asked. “What did you infect her with?”

“We didn’t,” Ms. Solosky insisted. “She came to us with, um, something inside her. We were just…studying her when she died. We didn’t expect her to come back like the other things.”

The images of the creatures that had attacked the bubble sped through Beth’s mind. “What are they, those things?”

“We…don’t…know,” the Doctor said, his eyes darting to Ms. Solosky quickly.

“Oh, I think you do!” Melissa shouted, yanking the man to his feet. She reached out and grabbed up some of the BC instruments nearby and quickly fashioned a pair of manacles. He winced and cried out as she roughly secured his hands together. Shoving him towards the hallway, she made another pair and handed them to Beth. “Put those on her.” Beth did so quickly. “Okay, if either of you want to live, you will do two things. First, you’ll get us the fuck out of here. Second, you’ll answer all of our questions.”

“Not with her!” Ms. Solosky said, her voice cracking with fear. “She’ll infect everyone!”

“How?” Melissa shouted. “How can she infect everyone?!?”

“The…saliva,” Stilig gasped. “They…have to…bite you.”

Melissa turned back to her aunt, barely recognizing the woman before her. “Sorry about this,” she said quietly. “But we can’t have you chomping on us while we try to save you.” Melissa grabbed onto the table and concentrated. The top of the table stretched and warped, the movement causing Heather to fight harder, her neck stretching towards Melissa, teeth gnashing brutally, chips of enamel mixing with the bloody foam. The warped BC became a small cage and closed about Heather’s head, shrinking slowly until it immobilized her completely. Melissa double-checked the restraints on Heather’s legs and arms, reinforcing all with BC. She kicked the brakes free on the table and began to roll it towards the door.

“No!” Stilig shouted, trying to block her way, but he stumbled and collapsed, his body convulsing violently.

“What’s happening?” Beth asked the assistant. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, no. No no no no no no,” she responded. “He’s turning already! It shouldn’t be this fast! A day, sometimes two, but not minutes!”

The girls watched as Dr. Stilig’s body heaved and jerked, his back arching terribly, the sound of his spine cracking and breaking like gunshots, until finally he lay still, his eyes unfocused and glazed, his last breath wheezing from between his lips.

“Kill him!” Ms. Solosky shouted. “You have to destroy the brain!”

“Didn’t he just die?” Beth asked, shoving the doctor’s body to the side with her foot and helping Melissa wheel Heather into the hall.

“Yes, but he’ll come back,” Ms. Solosky wailed. “They always come back! Kill him!”

“Not a problem,” Melissa said, casually stomping on the man’s forehead once, twice and then a third time before the skull caved in and bloody grey matter oozed onto the floor. “That oughta do it.” She looked at the assistant. “I’m guessing you want to live? So if you would please point us to the lift, we’ll get the fuck out of here.”

“You can’t,” the woman sobbed. “The Shop is in full lockdown. There isn’t any way out. It would take either Dr. Stilig’s override—” They all looked at the man’s crushed head and shivered. “—Mr. Zverev or the Empress herself.”

“I think we can count them out,” Melissa said. “What do you think, freak? Can you get us out of here?”

Beth looked at Melissa and then at the table carrying Heather. “I don’t know. Getting us down was easy. Gravity did the work. But getting us up? I don’t know.”

The heavy sound of boots echoed down the hallway. “Sounds like thinking time is about up,” Melissa shouted. “Get us out of here.”

Several guards rounded the corner and came to a halt, their rifles ready.

“Surrender immediately!” the lead guard yelled.

“Fuck you!” Beth yelled back, her hands slamming together, bringing all the BC out of the walls, crushing and chopping the guards into a pulp, leaving the hallway a mess of broken bodies and plaster.

“Holy Christ…What are you?” the assistant gulped.

“That’s the question,” Melissa said. “Looks like we go the other way until we can figure out how to get up and out.” Melissa turned the table around and began to run with it down the long hallway, speeding past closed and secure doors. Cries for help and pounding on the closed doors assaulted her ears, but Melissa couldn’t worry about that at the moment.

Beth shoved the assistant after. “Go,” she barked. “You’re coming with us.”

The three made it only a few yards when a sound from behind them caused Beth to glance over her shoulder. What she saw brought her to a dead stop. “I thought you said destroying the brain would kill him?”

The assistant stopped also and looked behind her, the sight bringing her to her knees. “That...can’t...be.”

They all watched as Dr. Stilig’s body pushed itself upright, the skull reforming, the scalp slowly knitting back together. The thing that was Stilig grunted and growled and Heather immediately answered in kind, drawing Stilig’s full attention to the girls and Ms. Solosky. Stilig bared his teeth and shrieked, running full speed towards them, his hands still bound by the BC manacles.

“What the fuck do we do now?” Melissa screamed.

“Run!!!” Beth shouted, grabbing one side of the table and helping Melissa push as fast as they could.

Ms. Solosky continued to kneel in the hallway, her hands raised up and prayers streaming from her mouth.

“Come on, you crazy bitch!” Melissa shouted after her. “Get up and move!”

The woman didn’t respond, just continued to pray. Melissa turned away and was glad she had when the woman’s shrieks filled the hallway, then brutally cut short as her throat was ripped out and the crazed Stilig began to feed off of her, shoving chunks of flesh into his mouth as fast as he could.

The girls came to the end of the hallway and turned the corner, only to face more guards.

“Fuck!” Melissa swore. Her arm blades slid quickly into place as she shoved Heather’s table towards the guards, grabbed the end and flipped herself underneath, going along for the ride.

The guards opened fire and Beth watched in horror as bits and pieces of Heather’s body exploded everywhere, spraying the walls with red-black goo as the table and Melissa slammed into the front line.

“What are you doing?” Beth shouted, rushing towards the fray, yanking chunks of BC from the walls, shielding herself from the bullets flying at her.

Melissa pushed herself from the table and executed a series of sweep kicks, knocking half the guards off their feet. She had their jugulars sliced open and spouting blood before any hit the floor. The remaining guards shifted their aim and Melissa was soon being pummeled by slugs. Her suit kept the bullets from penetrating, but the impacts knocked her off balance and she was unable to press her attack.

Seeing Melissa was down, Beth changed from defensive to offensive, shattering the BC shields and sending the splinters and fractured pieces flying towards the guards. Only two were able to avoid the shrapnel, while the rest were ripped apart, their bodies dancing and jerking until the last piece of BC had hit them and then their corpses collapsed to the floor, many on top of Melissa.

The last two guards stared at Beth for a moment, then turned and ran, realizing they were in over their heads.

Suddenly, the alarms ceased and the resulting quiet made the sounds coming from Heather even more unsettling.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Beth shouted, shoving corpses away from Melissa and jerking her to her feet. “Most of those bullets hit Heather!”

Melissa looked at her aunt. “I figured she’d fix herself just like psycho doctor did back there!” she shouted back, shoving Beth away. “Look! There isn’t a mark on her and she’s just as growly as before!”

Beth began to protest further, but stopped when a howl behind them made both girls turn around. There, covered in blood and gore, stood Stilig, his eyes manic and teeth bared. He took one step, then another and another until he broke into a run, his arms outstretched, fingers bent like talons.

“Not this fucker again,” Melissa sighed, her body exhausted. “Can you do something about this asshole?”

Beth sighed with her and flicked her hands. BC shot from the walls and wrapped itself about Stilig, immobilizing him. He roared with frustration, then overbalanced and crashed to the floor, various fluids flying from his enraged mouth.

“Thanks,” Melissa said. “Now let’s find a fucking way out of here.”

They each grabbed the table again and pushed.

Chapter Twenty-One

Zverev stood at the edge of the massive hole in the floor created by Beth’s dense BC bubble and glared. “Are you saying no one was able to get a shot off?”

“No, sir, that isn’t what I’m saying at all,” one of the guards countered. “I’m saying we hit them several times, but they were in some type of shield. I’d never seen anything like it.”

Zverev moved closer to the hole and pointed below. “What about the containment area? Has it been compromised? Have any of those things gotten out?”

The guard leaned over for a better look and Zverev gave him a shove, sending the guard flailing and screaming as he fell. The impact could be heard from above and Zverev shone his halogen down for a better look. When none of the creatures pounced on the fresh meat, he looked over at the remaining guards. “Did any get out?”

“No, sir,” a new guard answered, taking a step back. “All creatures are accounted for. However…”

“Spit it out,” Zverev growled, pulling his sidearm.

“Sector 17 has been breached. Men were dispatched to deal with it and the few survivors…”

“Few survivors?” Zverev asked. The guard watched the sidearm carefully.

“Yes, sir. The intruders seem to be highly trained. They have killed nearly everyone we have sent at them. But as I was saying, they report that the intruders are attempting to remove one of the creatures from the facility. They have it strapped to a gurney.” The man visibly flinched when he finished.

“I’m not going to shoot you,” Zverev said. “Where are they now?”

“Surveillance is limited, due to the destruction that sector has sustained, but we believe them to still be in 17.”

“Good. Purge the level. Prepare fire suppression teams so it doesn’t spread to other levels, but make sure those fucking girls are found and killed,” Zverev growled. “If they aren’t…” He made sure to catch the eye of each guard standing before him. “…you will be.”

***

“Where are they?” Billy asked, pacing the BTT’s cabin.

“Sit down, William,” Alex moaned. “You’re making me nauseous with all that pacing.”

“Sorry,” Billy said, pouring a large tumbler of whiskey and downing it in two gulps. “It’s just driving me nuts not knowing if they’re alive or not.”

“Yes, it is frustrating,” Alex said. “But there is nothing we can do. I am in no shape to help. You are a Ghost, but your special talent is vehicle design, not combat. We know what happened last time you tried to push that point.” Alex ignored Billy’s glare at the remark. “And we certainly can’t just start firing into The Shop. A: because we don’t know where they are and we could kill them and B: The Shop has, well, certain items that don’t get along with explosives.”

“So we just sit here and wait?” Billy whined.

“Yes, if you would actually sit the fuck down!” Alex groaned.

***

A series of clicking noises issued from the floor and Beth and Melissa looked at each other immediately.

“You heard that, right?” Melissa asked.

“Yes,” Beth answered as they each looked down to see small holes opening, spaced three centimeters apart.

“That’s a lot of holes,” Melissa said. “Might be time for another Beth bubble.”

“Except we don’t know what is going to come out of those holes,” Beth exclaimed. “Making a bubble that can stand impacts is one thing, but what if it’s acid that can eat through BC? Or heat that would cook us up?”

“Jesus, you’re all optimistic,” Melissa sniped. She looked about them, seeing the lift doors. “I might be able to override the code and get us in there. I’m guessing the lift won’t be affected by whatever is coming.”

Melissa stepped to the code panel and placed her right hand over it, trying to read the BC components that made up the mechanism. She shook her head back and forth quickly as she concentrated. Within seconds there was a series of bangs and the lift doors partially slid open, just enough for the girls to squeeze through, but not enough for the gurney to fit. The clicking from the floor stopped.

“Fuck,” Melissa cursed. “We’re gonna have to take her off the table.”

“You take her off the table!” Beth shouted. “She’s your aunt!”

“Shut the fuck up, freak! Help me get her off the table! Melt that BC into a helmet or something so she can’t bite us and we’ll shove her in the fucking lift!”

Beth grimaced, but focused on the BC, making it separate from the table and fully encapsulating Heather’s head. Beth released Heather’s arms and legs and Melissa used her blades to cut the straps that still held her in place. Heather immediately reached for the girls, trying to claw at their faces, but Beth gave her a shove and a kick into the lift. They dashed in after her and Melissa struggled to get the doors closed, but finally was able to.

***

What was once Dr. Stilig, but then something much different, continued to thrash about, stopping suddenly when the hallway began to fill with gas. The thing choked and gagged on the mist that grew thick from floor to ceiling.

The creature’s ears heard one last click and was then engulfed in flames that quickly reached well above 500 degrees Celsius.

Within seconds, the former Dr. Stilig’s body was reduced to fine ash.

***

Even through the shielded doors of the lift, the intense heat could be felt from the other side.

“Okay, now get the lift moving,” Beth said, wrapping BC coils around Heather’s body, trying to keep her from attacking them both.

“Not quite so easy,” Melissa complained, trying to get a feel for the lift controls. “The door mechanisms were right there, fairly easy to override. But, the lift drives are locked down in a whole other part of the building.” Melissa looked apologetically at Beth. “I’m sorry, but I’m too new at this. I don’t know how to make us move.”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Beth swore and Heather’s growls grew louder. Beth eyed the transformed Ghost and smiled. “I bet I know who does. Call Styles again.”

***

“Shit, girls! What the fuck is going on down there?” Styles answered the com. “I just saw a temperature spike that could cook the yellow right outta the sun!”

“Styles! Shut up!” Melissa barked. “Please tell me you have Alex on board?”

“Got him in the back. He’s pretty fucked up, but conscious.”

“Put him on the com. We need his royal privilege!”

Styles transferred the com signal to open speaker in the cabin and leaned back, shouting through the open cockpit door. “Melissa is on the com. You’re a go.”

Billy looked puzzled. “Who’s a go?”

“Alex is, you moron! Why the fuck would I want to talk to your scabbed-out ass?” Melissa shouted, continuing before Billy could respond. “Listen, Alex, we’re stuck in a lift in…looks like…Sector 17. I need your royal override code to get this thing moving and out of this mother fucking hellhole!”

“Um, I haven’t been given the code in years,” Alex stated. “I couldn’t even guess. They probably change it daily.”

“I doubt Nat has the attention span to memorize a new one each day,” Billy offered. “What would she want it to be?”

Alex thought for a moment, trying to figure out his sister’s warped mind.

“Don’t have all fucking day, Al!” Melissa screamed. “Code me the fuck now!”

“Hold on!” Alex shouted, regretting the force he used. “Ow. Try 13289955.”

There was brief silence on the com. “Wrong one! Hit me again!”

“Okay….um, let’s see,” Alex mumbled. “Try 13289554.”

“That’s almost the same number!”

“Just try it!”

Silence. “No! Give me another!”

“Hmmmm…no, she wouldn’t be that stupid…,” Alex mused. “Try 13288231.”

“What’s with the 1328’s?”

“Inside family stuff. Don’t ask.”

Billy and Alex waited.

“That’s it! We’re moving!”

“Okay, put the same code in again!” Alex said. “That will keep Zverev from trying an override until you get to the top floor! Watch your asses, they’ll be waiting!”

***

“Sir! We have a lift coming up from Sector 17!” a guard shouted.

Zverev, donning his combat armor, rushed to the closest control panel. “Shit! I’m locked out! How did they do that?” He grabbed up his auto-rifle and stormed from the equipment room. “I want all available guards on the main lift doors now! Ground floor! Weapons hot and kill on sight in effect!”

The man shoved past confused guards and fleeing techs, his eyes narrowed to slits, a murderous growl in his throat.

***

“What’s the plan, BC wizard?” Melissa asked Beth, shoving Heather into a corner for the fourth time as the crazed woman tried to slam into her again and again.

“Plan?” Beth asked. “I don’t have a plan. You’re the one with the training, not me!”

“Great,” Melissa grumbled, grabbing Heather by the shoulders and tossing her to the floor. “Maybe we can sick Heather on them?”

Beth thought for a moment. “That’s not a bad idea. They won’t know what to do with her. It’ll be chaos. Plus, she apparently can’t be killed.”

“I was fucking joking!” Melissa snarled.

“And I’m not,” Beth said sternly. “I’ll tether her to me so she can’t get away. We can take all the BC off except for the head and let her loose. I’m guessing if any of them know what she is, they’ll keep a wide berth or try to shoot her in the head, which we both know is useless.”

Melissa grumbled under her breath for a moment while Beth just stood there staring at her.

“Fine!” Melissa finally relented as they were only one floor away, mere seconds from the door opening.

Beth focused and loosened the BC restraining Heather’s body, ready to let her free as soon as the lift doors slid apart.

“I’m getting behind you both since I don’t have a fancy suit like yours,” Beth said.

Melissa looked at Beth’s clothes, seeming to notice them for the first time. “Shit. Sorry about that,” Melissa apologized. “Freak.”

Beth smiled and the two girls braced themselves for the unknown onslaught.

***

The lift doors slid apart and the small window of opportunity the guards had to launch rockets, throw flames and shoot bullets was lost as they all looked in terror at the bloody, foaming, enraged Heather rushing towards them, arms free, hands like claws, and the most inhuman screech any of them had ever heard emanating from her mouth.

“What are you looking at?” Zverev screamed at them. “FIRE!”

But, it was too late as Heather hit the first wall of guards, her nails ripping into armor, shredding it like cotton bedclothes. Men and women screamed in agony as their flesh was flayed off their chests, arms, legs, throats, anywhere Heather could expose skin.

No one even paid attention to Melissa and Beth exiting the lift until they joined in the fight.

Beth brought BC to her, mentally pulling pistols, rifles, knives, batons right out of the guards’ grasps. The BC began to spin about her, creating a whirlwind of metal, protecting her from the few guards that did focus on her and pummeling those that were in her way.

Blades extended, and her own rage building as she watched Heather mutilate guard after guard while still taking a beating, Melissa roared at the guards in front of her, making many stop to assess whether she was another like Heather or not. In their hesitation, Melissa relieved them of limbs, guts and heads, her BC blades sharp enough to cut through the strongest protective gear.

Beth felt one, then two bullets whiz by her head, the latter taking a piece of her ear with it. She fell to the floor, her concentration drawn from the BC, the whirlwind collapsing quickly. She put her arms over her head and covered herself as the weapons fell on top of her.

“Just a fucking girl!” Zverev shouted, yanking Beth up and onto her feet, his rifle pointed at her chest. “A fucking dead girl!”

He squeezed the trigger, but was a moment too late, his shot going wild as several of his guards slammed into him, panic in their voices, as they tried to escape what was coming at them. Heather, free of all BC once Beth’s focus was lost, stood before Zverev, chunks of flesh and sinew hanging from her open mouth. The man had only a second to look about him at the eviscerated bodies covering the floor before Heather leapt. He tried to protect himself, bringing his rifle in front of him, but was only able to block two swipes before she overpowered him, bringing him to the floor with the others.

Heather’s growls and snarls were muffled by the wetness of Zverev’s blood as she ripped his throat open and drank the hot liquid with an unquenchable thirst. He tried to scream, but only a pitiful, wet gurgle escaped his lips, then nothing as Heather tore into his voice box.

“Come on!” Melissa cried, helping Beth to her feet. “Get control of her and let’s get the fuck out of here!”

Beth pushed what she was seeing to the back of her brain, not letting the gruesome image before her shock her into inaction. BC shot out from everywhere, wrapping Heather about the legs and torso, pinning her arms to her sides. Beth didn’t have the focus to cover Heather’s head properly, but she created a brace that kept the snarling woman’s neck rigid, limiting the reach of those deadly teeth.

A massive explosion nearly caused Beth to lose control once again, but she held on, keeping Heather immobilized.

“What…?” Beth exclaimed, but quickly knew when she saw Melissa toss the rocket launcher aside, the front entrance a gaping hole, their way out.

***

“Holy shit!” Styles yelled, lowering the lift cage the second he saw the front of The Shop burst outward in a shower of concrete and metal. “Here they come!” Styles gasped at what he saw. It wasn’t the sight of Melissa and Beth that surprised him, even though he didn’t quite understand why Heather was wrapped up and being pulled along by both girls, it was the sight of what was coming after them that shocked him. “Fuck me! What the hell are those things?”

Below the BTT Melissa and Beth fought and struggled to get Heather to the descending lift cage, their struggle made doubly hard as they saw what used to be guards, now turned bloodthirsty creatures, scrambling over debris and corpses that hadn’t changed yet just to get at them.

The girls made it to the cage and Styles watched as Beth yanked open the door and shoved Heather inside, somehow getting the BC of the cage to meld with the BC that held Heather.

“Come on!” Styles could see her mouth to Melissa, who was having her own struggle as two severely messed up guards closed on her. Blades extended, Melissa gutted one and decapitated the other before returning her attention to the first and ramming a blade through the thing’s forehead.

“Are you seeing this?” Styles shouted, activating a holo of the scene in the cabin. “What the holy fuck is going on?”

“Jesus Christ!” Billy called out. “Get them the fuck out of there!”

The moment Melissa was inside the cage, Styles brought the thing up as fast as he could. Three of the creatures leapt at it, one able to grab on and keep hold as the cage lifted towards the BTT. Melissa stabbed the thrashing monstrosity over and over until she finally pierced its skull. The creature fell, its body impacting below, exploding in a mass of guts, blood and bone.

The lift cage had barely been secured, and the bottom hatch closed, before Styles hit the thrust, sending the BTT flying through the sky and away from the hellish scene.

“Hang on!” Styles yelled over the com, but everyone already had their bodies braced against the sudden acceleration.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Empress Natalya struggled to activate The Shop’s security holos from her private rooms, but the system wasn’t responding. Frustrated, she tried her com several times, hoping to reach Zverev, but to no avail.

“Incompetent fools!” she screamed, storming from her private wing and towards the exit leading to The Shop. “I’ll have them all boiled in their own excrement for not responding to me!”

In minutes she made it to the door, threw it open and froze instantly.

She watched flames licking the sky, spouting from the entrance and roof of The Shop. She could see guards running about, trying to put out the fires, but there were other guards, guards not quite right, that seemed to be attacking the ones coming to help. Screams and bloodcurdling cries filled the air.

“What is going on?” she shouted at them all. “I command all of you to stop immediately! Get control of yourselves!”

From out of a cloud of smoke, Zverev stumbled and staggered and the Empress stomped towards her head of security. “Zverev! What in God’s name is happening here? Have you lost your mind? Get these idiots in line and put out those fires! Now is not the…” She trailed off as Zverev got closer. His face was ravaged, strips of flesh hanging like string. His entire uniform was coated in red-black, sticky blood and his throat was nothing but a gaping hole. The Empress covered her mouth and backed away. “Zverev? What’s happened to you? Zverev?”

She began to panic when instead of responding, Zverev bared his blood-stained teeth and roared, breaking into a run, hands with half eaten fingers extended toward her. Empress Natalaya Tartarov felt the cold metal of the palace door behind her, but that was the last thing she felt before Zverev pounced on her, his teeth ripping into her soft shoulder, tearing a massive chunk away, spitting it out and going back for the throat. Blood gushed and spurted, soaking her regal dress as she feebly beat at Zverev until the life left her and her arms went limp.

Once the body cooled Zverev lost interest and shoved away from the corpse, looking into the haze of smoke, trying to locate a new victim, a new meal. He rushed away, his undead legs leaping over rubble and other feeding creatures, his ears and nose leading him to a group of living guards that were surrounded and hopelessly outnumbered.

While the screams of the living were choked off, the Empress Natlaya’s corpse lay glassy-eyed on the ground, shreds of flesh scattered everywhere. Minutes ticked by, the last few cries for help dying out, then Natalya’s body twitched and her jaw clacked open and closed repeatedly until she bolted upright, the sound of pure hunger, rage and death shrieking impossibly from her open throat and swollen, cold lips.

***

“Well, that wasn’t what we had planned, but it will do nicely,” Mr. Brown Eyes said, watching the hacked security holos from the safety of the Three’s HAV as it sped away from the overtaken palace.

“Yes, we can work with this,” Mr. Plain agreed. “Has Ms. Isely responded yet?”

“Yes,” Mr. Continental answered. “She has the first wave of troops ready for deployment. They can be here within 24 hours, and if all goes well, to the Chinese border in another 24.”

“Then tell her to deploy them,” Mr. Brown Eyes said. “Let’s get the ball rolling, shall we? No need to wait any longer.”

“And what about the ‘special project’ she was working on?” Mr. Plain asked.

“Mr. Stone? He is ready as well,” Mr. Continental smiled. “His modifications seem to be in perfect order.”

“Excellent. Will he be joining the troops?” Mr. Plain asked.

“Yes,” Mr. Continental answered. “This will be the true test of his new skills. If he can succeed here, then taking on the Jacks will be nothing for him or others like him.”

The Three grinned at each other, satisfaction dripping from their smiles. Each turned back to the holos and watched the dead creatures move from squirming body to squirming body, desperate to fill their hunger for flesh.

***

Billy stared into the bloodshot and insane eyes of Heather Walton and his breath caught in his throat.

“She’s dead, trust us,” Melissa said. “She was dead when we found her.”

“But…but…but…,” Billy stuttered.

“We don’t know what happened to her,” Beth said. “The doctor that was torturing her seemed caught off-guard that she had come back, although he wasn’t too surprised.”

“What do you mean?” Alex asked weakly, leaning against the door jam of the cargo hold. “He knew this would happen?”

“No,” Melissa replied. “He had seen this before, but was shocked it was happening to Heather.” Melissa began to strip off her gore-matted suit, stepping out of the BC outfit, not caring as both Billy and Alex turned away from her naked body. “Don’t touch my suit. I haven’t figured out how to clean it yet. Where’s the fucking shower on this thing?”

“Back of the cabin,” Alex answered. “Full shower with everything you’ll need to scrub clean.”

Melissa stopped, her soot covered face right in Alex’s “Nothing will scrub me clean of this. Nothing.”

She walked off towards the stairs leading up to the main passenger cabin and both men turned to Beth.

“What the fuck happened in there?” Billy asked.

“Are you alright? You’re bleeding,” Alex asked right after.

Beth didn’t answer, her attention focused on the struggling Heather.

“That will hold her for as long as it takes to get us where we are going,” Beth said, acting as if no one had spoken.

“Beth,” Alex asked warmly. “What happened in The Shop?”

The girl slowly turned towards Alex, her face a mixture of shock and fear. “I don’t know,” she answered quietly, looking back at Heather. “But I know what Hell will be like if I’m doomed to her fate.” She stepped back from the cage and looked each man in the eye briefly, before walking after Melissa, leaving a trail of her own torn and soiled clothing. “Burn those please,” she called back when she was halfway up the stairs.

Billy just stood there, while Alex leaned against the wall, both stunned, not sure if they should go after the girls or stay and watch the creature that used to be Heather Walton.

***

For a brief moment, Mr. Stone believed his entire body was on fire, but as soon as his eyes opened the sensation went away and he wondered if he had dreamed it. Then he saw where he was, and the wires connected to his body, and knew it wasn’t a dream.

“Mr. Stone,” Ms. Isely said, leaning over the exam table. “Welcome back to consciousness. How do you feel?”

He tried to speak, but all that came out was a harsh rasp.

“My apologies,” Ms. Isely said. “I’ll have a technician fetch you some water. I’m going to ask a couple of questions, if that is okay? You’ll just need to nod your head. Alright?” Mr. Stone did just that, nod his head. “Wonderful. First question, do you know who you are?”

Mr. Stone nodded.

“Excellent. Can you feel your fingers?”

Mr. Stone nodded and wiggled the fingers on both hands.

“Fantastic. How about your toes?”

Same result.

“Now, can you roll your head fully to the side? Great. How about the other side? Fine, just fine. Any pain? No? Excellent. Ah, here’s your water.” Ms. Isley took the cup of water from the technician and helped Mr. Stone sit upright to take a sip. He felt a bit light headed, but it soon passed.

Mr. Stone studied his surroundings carefully as he took many slow sips. He was in a small room, pure white walls with zero equipment to speak of except for the table he was on. The wires attached to him fell to a hole in the floor and disappeared from there. As far as he could tell, there wasn’t a door.

“Thanks,” he croaked.

“Of course, Mr. Stone,” Ms. Isely smiled. “Now, I do have some unfortunate news.” Mr. Stone narrowed his eyes and Ms. Isely laughed. “Nothing horrible, I assure you! It is just that the training we had hoped to give you will have to be uploaded directly. While this saves time, and we have found only decreases efficiency by about 15%, it can be a might uncomfortable.”

“Upload?” Mr. Stone asked. “Upload what?”

“Your training, Mr. Stone, like I said. You don’t expect to just be able to magically know how to use your new gifts, do you?”

“Gifts? What have you done to me?” Memories of the past couple days began to filter back through his brain. The image of Reginald being killed the most predominate. “Who are you?”

“I am your new boss, Mr. Stone. Any other questions will be answered by the upload,” Ms Isely replied, a mind spike in her hand. She set the spike into a waiting receptacle on the table and several small lights began to blink. “So, let’s begin! Oh, and don’t worry, you won’t be alone.” Ms. Isely clapped her hands and Mr. Stone’s world went black.

“I can’t see!” he exclaimed.

“Yes, we can’t have any external stimuli getting in the way of the upload.”

With that Mr. Stone lost his sense of hearing, smell, touch. He was just a mind floating in nothingness. Until the excruciating pain slammed into his brain.

Pain and a voice.

***

“That was incredible back there,” Melissa said as she toweled off. Beth stepped into the small shower stall. “I don’t know what kicked your ass into gear, but you have some crazy new skills.”

“Thanks,” Beth said. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get to Heather sooner.”

“Well, I’m just praying there’s a way to reverse the effect,” Melissa said, although the tone of her voice revealed she had zero hope of that happening.

“Yeah, me too,” Beth replied.

Melissa tossed the towel aside and grabbed a robe hanging from the wall. “While we are on the subject of ‘back there’, do you mind telling me why you fucked that guard?”

Beth was quiet for a moment. “It wasn’t me.”

“Right, um, we both know that isn’t true,” Melissa laughed. “And pretty sure you gots the sore cooch to prove it.”

“No, what I mean is, while it was me doing it, it wasn’t me doing it. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it was the same feeling I’ve had off and on for a long time, well as long as I can remember. It’s like I step out of my body, but I don’t really leave.”

“That makes absolutely zero sense.”

“I know… that’s the problem.”

“Better hope that guy didn’t have the bloody tips or anything. You’ll be pissing pus for a week if he did.”

Beth turned the water off and Melissa handed her a dry towel. “I don’t think I get sick.”

“You don’t think…what?”

“I don’t think I get sick. I don’t feel like I do, at least.”

“How the fuck would you even know that?”

“Why, does that sound weird? Weirder than me fucking some strange guy in a prison cell?”

“Good point…freak.” Melissa handed Beth a robe and pushed her onto a small bench. “Hold still. I’m gonna stitch up that ear otherwise it’ll never stop bleeding.”

The girls smiled at each other and Beth held still while Melissa worked.

***

“Go lie down, Alex,” Billy said. “You’ve probably undone half of the bullshit job I did on your wounds.”

Alex, visibly shaken and exhausted, began to protest, but quickly decided not to. “Thanks. Let me know if she, well, changes.”

“You mean if she stops snarling and foaming at the mouth?”

“Right. I’ll see if I can get more information from the girls.”

“Rest first. Let them rest, too,” Billy insisted.

“Styles says we are an hour from the border,” Alex said. “So we have that long to catch a little nap before things get tough.”

“Tough? How?”

“Heather was the one with the code to get us through the Chinese shields. She isn’t really in any position to help now, so we have to do it the hard way.”

“Which is?”

“Up and over. It’ll suck, but I’ve done it before and we’ll be fine.”

Billy nodded towards the stairs. “Good. Go rest.”

“Yes, thank you, I will.”

***

Mr. Gein surveyed the battalion as it stepped onto the transport ship. “Is he ready?” he asked Ms. Isely as she approached the rail.

“He will be by the time we get there,” she answered. “He’s disoriented. Understandable since he just had several weeks worth of information inserted into his mind in the space of minutes.” She grinned. “You were right about him, Mr. Gein. Any other person would be brain dead from that experience, but he isn’t. Remarkable.”

“He’s always been the best. I wish you hadn’t killed Reginald. He would have been a good asset, also.”

“Hardly,” Ms. Isely replied. “We dissected his brain. He didn’t have anywhere near the capacity that Stone does. He would have broken quickly. But he isn’t lost, Mr. Gein.”

Gein eyed Ms. Isely carefully. “What have you done?”

“Simple. I kept the partnership together. I uploaded Reginald’s psyche into Mr. Stone’s mind. It’ll be as if he’s sitting right next to him.

“You what? Never mind, I’m sure you know what you are doing,” Mr. Gein responded, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose as the ship’s departure whistle blew. “You sure the conditioning will hold out?”

“On Stone? Nothing is for certain with Mr. Stone. On the rest? Yes, of course. The holos the Three sent us were invaluable. We modified the programming slightly and even in death we will be able to control them all now.”

“Even in death…,” Mr. Gein whispered. “We’re back full circle. Hundreds of years later and we’re playing with the same fire.”

“No, Mr. Gein. Not the same fire. Better fire, but we won’t lose control like the Americans did.”

Mr. Gein studied Ms. Isely’s face for a moment then shook his head again. “Don’t be so sure, Ms. Isely. Greater men and women than us have said the same thing and paid the price for those words.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Alex settled back into his seat, the girls reclined across the aisle from him. “So, you want to tell me anything?”

“She kicks ass,” Melissa said, hooking her thumb towards Beth.

“As does she,” Beth responded in kind.

Alex smiled. “You know, you can each take a row and stretch out. Give yourselves some room to rest.”

The girls looked at each other and smiled. “No, thanks,” Melissa said. “I’ve grown found of the freak here.”

“Ahhhh,” Beth mocked. “You always know the right thing to say.”

“You two really bonded back there…” he trailed off, hoping the girls would offer more info. When they didn’t, he changed the subject. “So what was that suit you were wearing, Mel?”

“Just a little something I made on the fly.”

“So, you’re getting your Ghost feet under you?”

“Yep,” she answered. “I think I have a knack for fashion.”

“Work it, girl,” Beth giggled.

Melissa snapped her fingers a couple times and they both laughed.

“Right, um, well, just rest, alright?” Alex winced and the girls turned, concerned.

“You okay?” Beth asked.

“Just a little banged up, but I’ll be fine.”

“You better be,” Melissa grunted. “You die and I’m left with Billy.”

“What about me?” Beth asked. “I’ll take good care of you.”

“What, you playing both sides now? That guard wasn’t enough for you? Need a little Mel action?” Melissa joked.

“Please! You couldn’t handle what I bring!” Beth laughed.

“You know, most people would be traumatized by what you two have been through. I don’t know what exactly happened, but I like the new attitudes. More confusing, but less catty.”

“Catty,” Melissa said.

“Catty,” Beth repeated.

“Pussy,” both girls said simultaneously, then burst into righteous laughter.

Alex smiled nervously, trying to hide his concern then closed his eyes, letting the girls joke and whisper across from him. “Try to get a little rest,” he said before drifting into an uneasy, painful sleep. “You need the rest. We all do.”

***

Every time Billy shifted, Heather strained against her restraints, her eyes filled with hate.

“What the fuck, Heather?” Billy said out loud. “What happened?”

He didn’t expect an answer from the creature before him. Billy knew there wasn’t going to be a cure or help for her, even if they did make it to Tibet in one piece. While he had never heard of anything being substantiated, he’d heard enough rumors and whispers running through Ghost channels to know that what had happened to Heather may have happened to a lot of other people in the past.

He knew the American brass was keeping things from the rest of them about what truly went on back on their home continent. Internal nuclear war was just too convenient an excuse, plus it didn’t explain why all of the Americans abroad were able to coordinate and cooperate with each other right away. If there had in fact been a civil war, wouldn't the surviving Americans been left divided? There was no way the dissenters were only confined to North America. He’d been around espionage and intrigue for too much of his life to believe that bullshit.

Billy scratched at his arm absentmindedly then looked down at the long gouges he had raked into his skin. “Shit,” he muttered, sending Heather into further fits. “This is not the time to go into withdrawal.” He sat on his hands, but knew it was only a matter of time before he couldn’t control himself and the sickness would hit. He’d be trying to peel his own skin and eat it if he didn’t get some scabs into his system.

“Wish I had a cage, too,” he said to Heather. “You’re locked up so you don’t hurt us and I need to be locked up so I don’t hurt myself.”

He looked around the cargo area, but didn’t see anything that would help. He sighed and kicked off his shoes, getting himself settled a little more comfortably.

“I know you probably can’t really understand me right now, but I wanted to apologize.” Heather growled low. “No, no, I want to. I have to. Hell, I may never get another chance.” He took a deep breath, but almost wished he hadn’t. He was pretty sure Heather was leaking fluids and the cargo hold was quickly stinking up. “Whew! Anyway, about my brother and your sister. I know you blame me. Melissa blames me. Fuck, everyone blames me! But, in all honesty, I thought I was helping. I know I was messed up then. I had just come off that fucked up assignment, and well, had started scabbing. It was hard for me to keep my head straight.”

Heather’s eyes bored into Billy’s and he turned away, not sure if he could continue under that glare. “I swear, even though I was high as a fucking Berlin skyscraper, the design was right. I went over it and over it after everything happened and it wasn’t my fault. Everything worked. They shouldn’t have crashed. They shouldn’t be dead. And like I have pleaded over and over, I shouldn’t be blamed for the skiff malfunctioning.”

He took another deep breath, this time through his mouth. “What I am to blame for was leaving my post and going after the target myself. I thought I could catch him. I thought I knew better than my training. That’s where the blame is. If I’d stayed put, I could have gotten to them in time. I probably could have pulled them out of the river. Hell, I could have changed the motherfucking skiff into a fucking submarine if I wanted too! But, none of that happened because I was flying on God knows what, I don’t even remember, and I let them down. I let you down. I let Melissa down. That is what I’m sorry for.”

He turned back to Heather and the creature spat bloody foam at him. He jumped out of the way, letting the spittle fly past his face. “Yeah, I deserved that.”

Heather strained at her bonds and the sound of her joints popped wetly. Billy winced at the noise, but then saw Heather start to move her right arm up out of the BC holding it in place. Her arm was twisted and bent at an angle that should have made it impossible to move, but then the entire situation before him was impossible.

“Um, whatcha doin’ there, Heather? That’s gonna be sore later. You may want to just keep still.”

Heather got her right arm free and began on her left. Billy watched in horror as she twisted her head about, the vertebrae snapping and crunching, her neck going limp. With both hands free, Heather started to yank on her own head, pulling it this way and that, all the while snarling and growling, her eyes locked on Billy.

“Oh, shit…,” he whispered, frozen in place by the sight before him. It wasn’t the painful contortions that were terrifying, so much as it was how the BC seemed to be softening. Almost like Heather was manipulating it herself. Like an undead Ghost.

Heather’s head finally came loose and she leaned forward, the sound of her bone re-knitting, a sound Billy thought he would never hear as long as he lived, echoing against the cargo hold’s walls. She tried to lunge at him, but her legs were still held in place and she shrieked in frustration.

Then she began the process to free her legs.

Billy backed towards the stairs, but never took his eyes off Heather. “HEY GUYS!!! NEED SOME HELP DOWN HERE!!!”

***

Beth knew she was in that half sleep state and shouldn’t be concerned by hearing voices, but the voices weren’t Mel’s and Alex’s. They were from the other place. She tried to make out what they were saying, tried to pierce the veil that was in place between her world and theirs. But, the harder she tried, the harder she concentrated, the quieter the voices became.

She told her fatigued brain to relax and just let the voices come to her and she had almost gotten to that state when she felt her shoulder being grabbed.

“Wake up, Beth!” Mel was shouting. “Billy’s screaming murder! Heather’s getting loose!”

Beth slammed awake, adrenaline shooting through her. “How? How can that be? I had her restrained. No one could get out of that without…” Beth pushed herself from her seat, her body a protest of pains and aches, and shoved past Melissa. “She’s a Ghost, Mel! A fucking Ghost! How could I be so stupid?!?”

***

“Fucking help!” Billy shouted, as Heather freed her legs and rammed herself against the cage, reaching and clawing between the bars to get at Billy.

Beth hit the bottom of the stairs and gasped as Heather started to warp the cage, making an opening for herself.

“NO!” Beth shouted, concentrating on the BC, trying to force it back in place. The material began to comply, but Heather’s rage grew and Beth started to lose control. “She’s too strong for me! I don’t know what to do!”

“Yes, you do,” Alex said from behind her, slowly easing himself down the stairs. “You do know what to do, Beth. I know what you are and you can beat her. But, you will have to look deep inside yourself and you won’t like what you see.”

“Stop with the fucking riddles and tell her what to do!” Mel shouted from the top of the stairs.

Alex sighed. “Once I saw what you could do with BC I knew right away. You’re a Vessel, Beth. You are designed to carry very special messages or data. Sometimes entire personalities.”

“A Vessel?” Billy asked. “They’re just myths! They don’t really exist!”

“Yes, William, they do exist and you are looking at one now.” Alex made it to the bottom step and leaned against the wall. “Beth, we will do what we can to keep her occupied, but you need to have a seat and talk to those inner voices you have.”

Beth looked back at Alex, puzzled. “Did I mention the voices to you?”

“No, Beth, but I know what they are. They can help. They are inside you, part of you and we need them to step up and take over for a moment.” Beth looked past Alex and up at Melissa, who in turn shrugged her shoulders. “No time to waste, Beth. You need to do this now or Heather could potentially rip this entire aircraft apart.” Beth’s eyes filled with fear and she reached out a hand to Melissa, who immediately came down the stairs, pushing past Alex, and took it. “We’ll hold her off, Beth, but you have to hurry.”

“It’ll be okay, Beth,” Melissa said, using her real name for the first time. Beth squeezed Mel’s hand, sat herself on the ground and closed her eyes.

***

“Hello?”

Brian jolted awake, his mind trying to focus on the voice he heard.

“Hello? I need to speak, um, to the voices.”

“Who is…” Brian tried to answer, but the words never made it out before his windpipe was squeezed brutally, ending any chance of communication.

“Shhhhhhh,” the woman hissed in his ear. “Not. A. Peep.”

“I heard that!” Beth shouted. “I know you’re there! Speak to me, please! Please, I need your help!”

Silence.

“PLEASE!” Beth pleaded. “I know what I am! I’m a Vessel! You have to help me! We have an infected woman that is trying to kill us! I need to know how to stop her!”

Brian felt the pressure from his windpipe loosen.

“I know you are inside me! If I die, you die!”

“Fine!” the woman shouted. “We’ll help you, but you aren’t going to like it. Once we come out, you won’t be the same. You won’t be Elizabeth Laughlin anymore. You’ll be someone else.”

“I don’t care! Everyone is going to die, is going to turn into one of those things, if you don’t help!”

Brian felt the hood yanked from his head and was blinded by bright light. He looked about as his eyes adjusted and realized he was in a room by himself, but the walls kept fading in and out, as if they didn’t have a fixed point. He felt unseen lips kiss his mouth.

“It was great knowing you, Dr. Brian Lisbon. Thanks for the good times,” the woman’s voice said. “I’m sorry you’re dead.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Beth’s eyes shot open and she struggled not to scream as knowledge, knowledge that wasn’t hers, slammed into her mind. She knew who she was: she was Elizabeth Laughlin. But, she was also someone else. She was Brian Lisbon. Dr. Brian Lisbon who had been living in another part of the world for the past twenty years. And he was dead. Murdered. But, not before he uploaded his consciousness. Uploaded it for transport to the Vessel for retrieval.

Beth gasped and stood up, her mind focused on the thing that was Heather. A thing that was only feet from her and coming at her fast.

“NO!” Beth screamed, her hands outstretched. Heather stopped instantly, frozen in place, her clawed hands just inches from Beth’s hands.

“What did you do?” Melissa panted. She was curled into a ball at Beth’s feet. “You were gone so long.”

Beth looked about her in confusion. She was no longer sitting at the bottom of the stairs, but behind a pile of crates on the far side of the cargo hold. Then her heart broke as she saw the crumpled and mutilated bodies of Billy and Alex. Her hand shot to her mouth and she struggled not to throw up.

“They saved us,” Mel whispered, peering around the crates. “They gave me time to drag you back here until you woke up.”

“How long?” Beth asked.

“Ten minutes, maybe,” Melissa said, choking back tears. “Billy was so brave. After Heather…killed Alex, Billy held her off. He fought hard, Beth, but she was just so vicious.” Melissa began to sob, her arms hugging her knees. “They’re gone, Beth. Everyone I love is gone. Everyone I know is gone. I’m alone.”

Beth knelt next to Melissa and put her arms around her. Melissa clutched at her desperately, her hot, wet tears soaking into Beth’s robe. “You’re not alone, Mel. You have me.” Beth suddenly pushed away and stood up, vaulting over the crates. She ducked around Heather’s immobile form and approached the corpses of Alex and Billy. “They’re dead. This is great!”

Melissa stood also and wiped her nose with her robe sleeve. “Great? Are you fucking insane? Don’t make me hate you, freak!”

Beth looked kindly at Melissa. “Let’s not go backwards, Mel. No, what I meant was I can save Heather. I can’t bring her back to life, but I can take the monster out. I can fix her, Mel. And when Alex and Billy reanimate, I can fix them too!”

The BTT’s com buzzed to life. “Hey? Anyone there?” Styles asked. “Can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

***

“Sorry Styles, but we are in the middle of something right now,” Beth called back over the com.

“Yeah, well I’m in the middle of flying something right now and kinda need some info from Al,” Styles snapped back. “Either that or we can crash right into the Chinese shield and all die.”

“I thought Alex said we could go over the shield?” Melissa asked.

“We can, but I need to know where exactly,” Styles growled. “Al has the coordinates.”

“Yeah, um, Alex is dead,” Beth admitted. “But, hopefully, he’ll be back soon and then I can fix him.”

Styles sat there in the pilot’s seat, trying to process what he heard.

“Mr. Styles? Are you still there?” Beth asked.

“Did you say ‘dead’?” Styles cleared his throat. “Like dead dead?”

“Bloody and gored,” Mel answered. “But freak Beth has a plan. How much time do we have?”

“Fifteen minutes max.” Styles could hear the girls conversing quietly. “Hello? Can I speak to an adult? Get me Billy if he isn’t hurting too much from scab withdrawal by now.”

“Billy’s dead, too,” Melissa replied.

“Jesus fuck! What the hell happened down there?”

“Heather killed them!” Beth shouted. “But I’m trying to fix that, so just be quiet for one goddamn minute!”

“Um…sorry,” Styles said quietly. “You all do your resurrection thing and I’ll just fly the plane.”

***

“God! I thought he’d never leave us alone!” Melissa said. “Hey…didn’t Alex say Heather had the code for the shield? Why not fix her first?”

“Because once I start the process, I can’t stop,” Beth answered. “And if those two come back while I’m working on Heather then you will have to deal with them yourself.”

“Point taken.”

The two girls sat on the crates in their bathrobes, Melissa’s torn and bloody, and watched the corpses of Alex and Billy closely.

“So…what happened in that brain of yours?” Melissa asked. “I mean, are you still you? You seem like you, but…who are you?”

Beth thought for a moment. “Yes…I’m still me, but I’m also Dr. Brian Lisbon. And he’s a bit of a strange bird.” Melissa looked sideways at Beth. “Shut it.”

“What?” Melissa joked. “I didn’t say anything. So…how is he strange?”

“He, me, we, well, he’s an American, but he’s been living elsewhere for a couple decades now,” Beth began, but stopped quickly as she saw Billy’s head begin to twitch. “That will have to wait.”

Beth got up and stood over Billy as the corpse’s eyes shot open. She put a palm to his chest, yanking it back before he could lift his head and bite her arm. In a second his whole body began to shiver and shake.

Beth moved on to Alex and waited patiently. By the time Billy had stopped moving and his chest began to rise and fall with normal respiration, Alex’s eyes opened and Beth repeated the procedure.

“They’ll be fine as soon as they wake up,” Beth told Melissa. “Well, I hope they’ll be fine. The nanotech should have preserved they’re brain functions, even with the viral modifications, but it’s hard to tell from individual to individual.”

“I’ll have to take your word on that, Doc,” Melissa grinned. “Now what about the one person that deserves saving and isn’t a total fuck up?”

Beth approached Heather and frowned. “She’s going to be hard. She was dead for a much longer period of time and the nanotech probably reconfigured her brain structure accordingly.” Beth looked at Melissa, her eyes grave. “She probably won’t be the same Heather you’ve always known. She could be, but…”

“You don’t want me to get my hopes up, right?” Melissa asked.

Beth nodded.

Turning to Heather, Beth applied both hands to the sides of Heather’s head and closed her eyes. She stayed that way for several minutes.

“Um, girls…” Styles interrupted.

“Can it, cowboy!” Melissa shouted.

“Five minutes before we go crunch,” Styles stated. “Just sayin’…”

“Done,” Beth said.

Heather began to shake and Melissa rushed over to help Beth get her to the ground.

“Wha…” Billy mumbled from behind them. “Is this Heaven? If so then Heaven…sucks.”

Melissa laughed and dove onto Billy, hugging him fiercely.

“Can…I get…a little of that?” Alex whispered. “Just try…not to crush me.”

Melissa reached over and took Alex’s hand in hers, refusing to let Billy go.

“Hard…to…breathe,” Billy gasped.

Mel pushed herself up and helped Billy then Alex to their feet. Alex opened his shirt and looked back at the place where bullet wounds should have been.

“I feel good as new,” he said. “Whopper of a headache, but that’s about it.”

“Not bad for being dead and resurrected,” Beth said. “Although technically you are still dead.”

“What?” Melissa, Billy and Alex exclaimed.

“Yeah, you’re not really human anymore, you’re more like the walking techno-dead. You’re being run and held together by the nanotech.”

The three stared at her for a moment.

“Techno-dead? You mean like we’re high tech versions of those old zombie tales?” Billy finally asked.

“Zombies aren’t tales, Billy,” Beth said matter-of-factly. “They are quite real.”

“Two minutes!” Styles yelled over the com. “Anything?”

“Sorry, Styles! Alex is here now,” Beth replied. “Styles needs the coordinates for going over the Chinese wall.”

“Fuck!” Alex shouted, running up the stairs to the cockpit.

“Coordinates?” Billy asked. “Why do we need those?”

“So we don’t crash into the fucking shield wall,” Melissa answered. “Style’s been freakin’ out like a little girl for a while now.”

Billy crouched next to Heather. “How long until we know if Heather is, well, Heather?”

“No way to say,” Beth replied. “What I just did has never been done before. It’s all new to me.”

“Grab onto something, folks!” Styles yelled. “We are ascending quickly and it’s going to be rough!”

Billy wrapped his arms around Heather, while Beth and Melissa braced themselves against the crates as the BTT angled sharply upward. They could all feel the push of the g forces, the pressure increasing greatly the further and faster they climbed.

“This sucks!” Billy shouted.

“You’ve made that clear, Billy!” Melissa shouted back. “Shut the fuck up!”

“So much for the happy-you’re-alive-Billy love,” Billy sighed.

Just as the force was becoming more than any of them could handle, the BTT leveled off and they all sighed with relief.

“We have now reached 45,000 feet and weather looks smooth from here until Lhasa. Thank you for flying Styles Airways and have a wonderful day!”

“What’s going on?” Heather asked from between Billy’s arms.

“Heather!” Melissa shouted, shoving Billy aside, her arms outstretched. But, before Melissa could embrace her aunt, Heather screeched and scrambled backwards.

“Who the fuck are you?” she yelled, pushing herself to her feet, bringing her arms up in a defensive position, ready to fight. “Where the fuck am I?”

Melissa looked back at Beth, pain overtaking her features. Beth nodded sadly.

“Billy? Is that you?” Heather finally asked. “What the fuck happened to your face? You look like shit!”

“You should see your face,” Billy mumbled.

“What date do you think it is?” Beth asked Heather, slowly walking towards her.

“Date? What the fuck kind of question is that?” Heather snarled. “I know who Billy is, but who the fuck are you two bitches?”

Melissa couldn’t help but smile at that.

“My name is Elizabeth Laughlin. Does that mean anything?” Heather shook her head. “She is Melissa Brenton. Do you know who that is?”

The fight seemed to leave Heather instantly. She looked at Billy for confirmation and he nodded. Heather lowered her arms. “Mel? Little Mel? But, you…you’re a woman!”

Melissa smiled weakly.

“Heather, we need to get you cleaned up and then we’ll have a very nice, long talk,” Beth soothed. “There is a lot you need to know.”

***

“I fucking what?!?” Heather shouted.

“You died and came back as a techno-zombie,” Beth said. “That’s the simplest way to put it.”

“There’s nothing simple about any of this bullshit!” Heather complained. “You act like you know so fucking much, but look at you! You’re what, seventeen?”

“Technically I’m only four, but that’s another story,” Beth said.

Everyone stared at her.

“Um…what?” Melissa finally asked. “Four?”

“Yes, but that’s not really important at the moment,” Beth said turning to Heather. “What is important is finding out what you last remember.”

“Four?” Melissa asked again.

“Drop it, Mel,” Beth insisted. “Heather?”

Heather sat there for a moment looking stunned. “I…I remember being in Russia. With Al. And we had just gotten back…from our-.”

“Our honeymoon,” Alex said coming back into the cabin. “That would be Spring of 2475.” Heather stared at Alexander, tears welling in her eyes. “Hey, sweetheart. Welcome back.”

Heather leapt from her seat and grabbed Alex in a big hug, planting kisses all over his face and neck. He began to laugh and gently pushed her away.

“Well, I can honestly say I was never expecting that reaction ever again,” Alex chuckled, taking Heather by the hand and sitting with her across from the others. “I have to say I like it.” He looked into Heather’s eyes. “Very much.”

“Spring of 2475? Then that means…,” Billy mused.

“She doesn’t know,” Melissa finished.

“Doesn’t know what?” Heather asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“It’s not what we aren’t telling you, dear,” Alex began, taking both of Heather’s hands in his and squeezing them affectionately. “It’s what you have forgotten. Shall I do the honors?”

Billy and Melissa nodded. “We’ll fill in what you don’t know,” Billy said.

“While you all catch up I’m going to join Styles,” Beth said, getting up and moving to the cockpit. “We are probably in com range of the Lhasa outpost. I have to make a report.”

***

“Roger,” Styles was saying as Beth shut the cockpit door. “ETA fifteen minutes…Yes, sir…I have the coordinates and weather looks clear…Yes, I’ve made night landings plenty of times…Roger…Styles out.”

“They know we’re coming?” Beth asked, taking the co-pilot’s seat.

“Yep. We’ll be there soon,” Styles said. “I don’t think the Chinese even know we’re over them.”

“Oh, they know,” Beth laughed. “They saw us coming fifty miles before we hit their border. Trust me.”

Styles eyed Beth cautiously. “So…who am I speaking to right now?”

“Elizabeth Laughlin with a huge side of Dr. Brian Lisbon,” Beth laughed.

“So are you a mister or a missus?” Styles asked.

“I’m all lady parts. That makes me a missus.” Beth’s smile disappeared. “Brian Lisbon is dead. He died two weeks ago. I have his knowledge, his thoughts, even a few of his feelings, sorta, but I’m Beth Laughlin through and through.”

Styles nodded knowingly then shook his head in confusion. “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about, but I trust you. I’m guessing you need a secure com?”

“I do. Thanks.”

“Need some privacy?”

“No, what I have to report will be common knowledge soon. Plus, there’s too few of us left to be keeping secrets any longer. I don’t know how many Americans survived, but the old ways of doing things are over.”

“Roger that.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

General Tyler L. Millman slammed the com down and looked at his commanders. “The LOMSD is moving a fuckload of troops into Russia! What have you got for me?”

“We are no longer getting responses from the HRE, sir,” Colonel Smithfield responded. “Nor are we getting responses from France or Spain. The UK monarchy is still active, but to what extent we don’t know. It could just be a front since the troops are originating from that area.”

“Africa has stated pure neutrality. They don’t want anything to do with the conflict,” Colonel Owens added. “They’ll supply food and resources to any country in need, but if they come under any aggression, or are asked to take sides, they’ll shut down supply lines until a resolution has been achieved.”

“What about the Western hemisphere?” General Millman asked.

“Brazilian and Mexican Empires are just waiting on word from us,” Colonel Smithfield said. “We have their full support and they are ready to back any move we make. A re-established America only strengthens their positions.”

“Australia?”

“Ready as always, sir,” Smithfield continued. “However, they want joint command when things get hot. They don’t plan on being our ‘girlfriend’ in this conflict is how they put it.”

“I have no problem with that, as long as they stick to the plan,” the General nodded.

“Canada is more of an issue, sir,” Colonel Owens added. “They’ve been babysitting North America for three hundred years and are a little hesitant to let us just move back in, sir. They want a joint alliance. A United North America, not just an America.”

“Well, can’t say I’m surprised,” General MIllman laughed. “Their General Whitcomb has been saying as much for the past ten years. I don’t see a problem with it. They know the land better than we do.”

“Which brings up some difficult news, sir,” Owens hesitated.

“Spit it out, Owens.”

“The UDC, sir. They aren’t responding to the LOMSD’s communications any longer.”

“For how long?”

“A couple weeks, sir.”

“Have they fallen? It’s not another outbreak is it? I thought we had that taken care of.”

“It is taken care of, sir. The airborne virus has been eradicated from the Earth. This is something different, sir.” Owens looked at Smithfield for help.

“We’ve lost satellite surveillance, sir.” Smithfield took over. “We’re blind in the sky. All we’re getting is ground reports from the Canadians.”

General Millman’s face took on a look of menace that both Colonels knew all too well. “Why is this the first I am hearing of this?”

“Sorry, sir,” Smithfield continued. “We’ve had Techs on it and thought it was a glitch or we lost the satellite to orbital debris. There’s so much dead junk up there.”

The General glared. “Your point is?”

“The point is, sir, that we just received confirmation that it isn’t tech related on our end…”

“Keep talking, Colonel.”

“Sir, the satellites are being jammed. By tech we assume is coming from the UDC.”

“A coup?”

“No way to know, sir, until we get in there. We’re blind for now.”

“Excuse me, General?” a voice called over the com. “There is a secure com coming in from Prince Tartarov’s aircraft, sir. The security code matches that for Dr. Lisbon.”

“Well, it’s about fucking time! Maybe I can get some answers from him, or whoever he is now,” the General grumbled. “Both of you stay here.”

The Colonels nodded as Millman opened the com. “This is General Millman. That you, Lisbon?”

“At one point, yes, General,” Beth’s voice said over the com. “I’m now the Vessel Elizabeth Laughlin.”

“Laughlin? You’re the girl that the LOMSD has been shitting their pants about in the UK, right?” the General laughed. “Good to know even before activation you were making things difficult.”

“Difficult is the word, sir,” Beth said, no trace of the General’s amusement in her voice. “Are we alone, sir?”

“No we are not, Doctor-.”

“Beth, sir. I integrated fully. Dr. Lisbon is dead and won’t be coming back,” Beth corrected.

“Integrated fully?” The General raised his eyebrows, matching the surprised looks on both Colonel’s faces. “Is that possible?”

“Yes, sir, it is now,” Beth insisted. “There was another personality component uploaded. That component was the missing link in full integration. My neural capacity has not been compromised, nor will it degrade over time like previous Vessels.”

“Beth, this is Colonel Smithfield. What personality component are you talking about?”

“Rachel Capreze, Colonel. The original genetic template that all Vessels are based on.”

The three men sat upright suddenly.

“Are you joking, Ms. Laughlin?” the General asked. “How was that achieved?”

“That is what I need to report, sir. There has been a deep cover operative in place with Ms. Capreze for some time now. That operative was able to get a full neurological map of Ms. Capreze’s brain and integrate it with Dr. Lisbon’s neural upload. It took some massaging, but it kept me whole and has left all of Dr. Lisbon’s data intact.”

“Holy shit,” Colonel Owens whispered.

“I second that, Colonel,” General Millman added. “You’ll know best where to start, Ms. Laughlin. I’m looking forward to this briefing.”

Beth cleared her throat. “We need to start where it all fell apart, sir. Have you heard of the UDC’s Dr. Johnson?”

***

Mr. Stone stood on the ship’s deck and addressed the modified Shock troops before him, knowing his voice was being broadcast to those below, those on other ships and the troops already in place and moving into Russia.

“You are no longer LOMSD! The LOMSD, and the spoiled LOM, no longer exist!” he bellowed. “We are all under the command of the Three. Every single one of you was chosen for a specific reason, whether combat skill or a predisposition towards, well, alternative thinking.” He glanced over at Ms. Isely, who was smiling in approval. “As you know from the information uploaded directly, you are nearly invincible. When you are in combat, your viral nanotech will keep repairing any combat damage you sustain until your body’s energy level falls below life support parameters. At that time you will be switched to dead mode and forced to replenish your energy levels.”

Many of the troops grimaced, most stayed impassive, some grinned, the idea of having to consume human flesh to reboot their biological systems and reactivate neural controls, appealing to them.

“Our objective is to assert the domination of the Three and to push through Russia and into China,” Mr. Stone continued. “Once in China we will split, with one faction heading across the Chinese landscape to Beijing and a smaller faction pushing on to Tibet and the last American outpost. The world will fall under control of the Three and it is our jobs to make that happen. Understood?”

“UNDERSTOOD, SIR!” thousands of voices echoed across the ship’s deck and across what was left of Europe.

“Excellent! Now suit up! We are about to make land!” Mr. Stone shouted, the troops immediately activated their Shock suits and checked their systems.

“Very good, Mr. Stone,” Ms. Isely said, almost affectionately. “You are a born leader. Mr. Gein was right in picking you.”

“Thank you, Ms. Isely,” Mr. Stone nodded, his face impassive. “Any word on the state of St. Petersburg?”

“It has been overrun completely by the rogue infected,” Ms. Isely stated. “Those from the Russian research facility—The Shop, what a stupid name—took the rural areas quickly and the infection spread into St. Petersburg proper within the hour. I trust you will be able to control the spread and dispatch all unauthorized infected?”

“That is what you built me for,” Mr. Stone answered.

“We didn’t build you, Mr. Stone. We just improved you.”

“And I thank you for the improvement, Ms. Isely.”

“You are most welcome, Mr. Stone.”

Don’t forget about me, Mr. Stone, Reginald’s voice echoed in his head. I’m here too.

“No, Reginald, I won’t forget about you,” Mr. Stone replied.

“Is he speaking to you?” Ms. Isely asked, her eyes alight with curiosity.

“Yes, he is.”

“Any issues with the integration?”

Tell her it is a bit cramped in here, would you Stone? And I could really go for a cup of tea! Can you get me some tea, Stone?

“No integration issues to speak of,” Stone nodded as he stepped away.

“Where are you going, Mr. Stone? We are about to make land.”

He turned back slowly. “Reginald and I could use a hot cup of tea. May not get another chance.”

Mr. Stone didn’t wait for a reply as he left to find the galley.

***

“We’re a bit short on space up here,” the private stated, showing Melissa, Heather and Beth to their shared bunkroom. “Sorry it’s so cramped.”

“This’ll be fine, Private…?” Beth said.

“James, ma’am. Private Lucinda James.”

“Thank you, Private James. It’ll do fine.”

“Um, sorry to say that before you get settled, the General has asked to speak to you right away, Ms. Laughlin. And you are wanted in tech, Ms. Walton.”

“How about me?” Melissa asked, shaking one of the BC bunk frames. “Where am I needed?”

“I don’t have orders for you, ma’am,” Private James stated.

“She called me ma’am,” Melissa joked, elbowing Beth, who despite trying to be as serious and professional as possible, couldn’t suppress a seventeen-year-old’s smile.

“The mess is just down the hall if you are hungry,” Private James stated. “I know Chef has a fresh pot of yak stew cooked up.” Melissa grimaced. “Or, and I know you must be tired and it is late, there is holo training area on the third sublevel. I was informed you have been recently activated as a Ghost. Congratulations.”

“Um, thanks,” Melissa said.

“Try the yak stew,” Heather said. “Eat something. I remember it’s pretty good. Or it was thirteen years ago.”

“It’s quite delicious,” the Private agreed. “Ladies, if you’ll follow me.”

They left the bunkroom and Melissa to herself. She sat down on one of the bunks, her head in her hands. “Fuck this!” she said aloud. “I’m going to go punch something!”

***

“Fucking ow!” Billy yelled as he tried to yank his arm away from the Tech that had just pierced it with a large bore needle. “You said it wouldn’t hurt!”

“I lied,” the Tech said, not concerned in the least about Billy’s comfort.

“Big baby,” Alex laughed. “Your body can repair itself and you’re still acting like a little kid.”

“I think my senses are a bit more heightened because I was in scab withdrawal when I died,” Billy whined.

Alex rolled his eyes and looked at the Tech, who in turn shook his head. “Right. Just like a junkie to blame it on the scabs.”

“Hey! You can stop acting all high and mighty, Mr. Prince! You’re the reason we’re in this state!” Alex’s mood shifted noticeably and Billy wished right away he could take it back. “Sorry. That wasn’t fair. I know it was for Vas. He was a great guy.”

“Yep, the best of us all,” Alex agreed, closing his eyes and leaning back into the reclined exam chair.

“OW! You’re doing that on purpose!” Billy yelled at the Tech again as the needle was pulled from his arm.

The door slid open and Heather stepped inside, accompanied by another Tech.

“Welcome to the party, Ms. Walton,” Billy sneered. “There’s plenty of torture to go around.”

Heather ignored Billy and sat in the exam chair offered to her.

“How are you holding up?” Alex asked her.

“As well as can be expected when missing thirteen years of my life, finding out my sister and her husband are dead and I’ve been raising my niece the whole time,” Heather snorted. “Not to mention that I died and was reanimated by some fucking nanotech virus.”

“So, you’re doing well then?” Alex joked, reaching his hand out and taking hers.

Heather smiled and gripped his hand. “Better. I’m hoping these folks can get my memories back.”

“We’ll try,” one of the Techs said, prepping her arm. “This will hurt a bit.”

“That’s not what they told me!” Billy complained. “Assholes!”

***

Seven Techs stood about admiring the BTT, as Styles ran external diagnostics, putting the aircraft through its paces.

“And you control it from a single jack?” one asked.

Styles removed his hat and lowered his head, showing each a full view of his exceptional jack point.

“That’s crazy!” another exclaimed. “Full integration? Muscle response also?”

“Full integration,” Styles smiled, donning his hat once again. “It’s one of a kind.”

“Did Prince Tartarov really customize that for you?” another asked.

Styles just grinned. “You folks ready for the show?”

They all nodded eagerly.

Styles activated the stealth system and the BTT vanished from the hangar.

“Holy crap!”

“What the…?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Styles laughed as the Techs rushed forward and began to feel for the aircraft.

***

“Ms. Laughlin, I’m pleased to meet you in person,” General Millman said, extending his hand. “Dr. Lisbon’s information has proven invaluable over the years, and while I know you are not him, I am glad to be able to express our gratitude.” Beth took the General’s hand and shook it warmly, taking the seat offered to her. “This is Colonel Owens and Colonel Smithfield. They are my commanders of all operations here at Lhasa base.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” Beth nodded. “Shall we get down to the debriefing? It’s been a rough few days, and while I did say the neural integration went off without a hitch, I am fighting off a fatigue headache.”

“We understand and we’ll keep the questions to a minimum,” Colonel Smithfield said. “I assume that cerebral integration is still an option for full data recovery?”

“Of course, Colonel,” Beth answered. “In fact, if you have an interface in here I can begin the upload while we talk.”

“Simultaneously?” Colonel Owens asked, astonished.

“Yes,” Beth grinned. “With Dr. Lisbon’s understanding and control of biochrome, Rachel Capreze’s predisposed technopathic consciousness, in conjunction with my cloned physical form from her genetic code, I am capable of doing many things at once.”

“I’ll bet you are,” Colonel Smithfield said. “The interface is to your left.”

The three men watched as Beth placed a palm on the interface control and a holo came to life instantly. She checked systems and set the data transfer into motion. “I’m ready when you are.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Zverev’s undead body battered at the sealed door. The screams from the terrified occupants echoing inside the house further enraged the creature, making it double its effort to gain entrance.

Other screams echoed about the chaotic street as people tried to flee the horror that had befallen the ravaged city of St. Petersburg.

Some tried to fight, but were quickly overcome, their bodies torn apart and feasted upon by the undead attackers.

Blood filled the gutters and guts, limbs and heads littered the ground, long since grown cold and of no interest to the creatures.

Five more of the undead joined Zverev and their combined force ripped the door from its frame. Gunshots erupted from the dark house, but they couldn’t stop the bloodlust that fueled the creatures.

Zverev roared and knocked the rifle from the woman who held it, tossing the useless weapon to the ground. She tried to escape, but he was on her so fast she hadn’t fully turned away when he sank his teeth into the side of her neck and yanked back, nearly ripping her head right off. Blood sprayed the room and the other creatures went wild, lapping at the hot, red liquid. Several tried to get at the corpse, but Zverev fought them off, keeping the flesh for himself.

Once the body cooled, Zverev rose and stalked from the house, ready to find more people, more victims, more flesh.

Within minutes the woman’s body reanimated, its wounds knitting back together, and she stomped up the stairs to the bedrooms above, some echo in the creature’s brain knowing exactly where the rest of the family hid.

***

“So you are saying that this nanotech that is inside Ms. Walton, Mr. Brenton and Prince Tartarov is somehow combined with the virus that creates, for lack of a better word, zombies?” General Millman asked.

“Precisely, General,” Beth replied. “And not just that, but the Three have modified the nanotech further, taking elements of biochrome and fusing it with the archaic metals the UDC used, giving the nanobots the ability to morph and reconfigure the host body at their will. Or, at the virus’s will, basically allowing the infected to heal instantly whether dead or alive.”

“Then they are virtually unstoppable!” Colonel Owens exclaimed. “How do we counter that?”

“Ghosts,” Beth said flatly. “Ghosts can manipulate any and all BC.”

“But they have to come into contact with it,” Colonel Smithfield stated. “That would leave them wide open to infection.”

“True,” General Millman agreed. “Which is why there would need to be teams. Some Ghosts could be on point and incapacitate the zombies while others would wait in the wings to help heal any Ghosts infected.”

“Exactly,” Beth nodded. “Once healed, the Ghost’s nanotech would be frozen into a permanent state, ending any programming control the viral modifications may have had.”

“Could they still retain the instant healing abilities?” Colonel Smithfield asked.

“Possibly. It would depend on the skill of the Ghost tasked to do the healing,” Beth replied. “I would say each outcome may be slightly different, but it could be worked out.”

The two Colonels looked at each other and grinned.

“You two better not be thinking of pre-infecting Ghosts,” the General warned, however his protest was weak since the value of such an action outweighed his misgivings.

“That is possible also,” Beth answered. “An inoculation of sorts.”

“This is a lot to think about, Ms. Laughlin,” the General said, rising and offering his hand. “I suggest you get some sleep. I’ll have our Techs go over the data and see if we can come up with anything else. They’ll also be studying the results from the tests on Ms. Walton, Mr. Brenton and His Highness.”

Beth rose and shook each man’s hand. “Before I go, have you considered how we will handle the nanotech that is running rampant in North America? That won’t respond to Ghost manipulation.”

“It’s something we’ll have to tackle before we get there, but not right now. One crisis at a time,” the General answered.

“Fair enough. Good night, gentlemen.”

***

Beth slowly made her way to her quarters and was surprised when she found Billy fast asleep in one of the bunks. Melissa stirred and sat up on one arm.

“Don’t wake him,” Melissa whispered. “He was a bitch to get to sleep. Wouldn’t shut up about how much it hurt getting poked and prodded.”

Beth grinned. “Where’s Heather?”

“She’s with Al,” Melissa grinned. “Not having memory of their break-up has turned Prince Pain-In-The-Ass into Prince Charming.”

“I don’t know a lot about relationships,” Beth said quietly as she pulled off her boots and removed her pants, slipping into the small, but cozy bunk waiting for her. “But, even I could tell those two weren’t quite done.”

“Tell me about it,” Melissa agreed. “The sexual tension was a bit thick.” Melissa hesitated. “You want to tell me what you meant by being only four years old?”

“Not tonight, Mel,” Beth yawned. “I just don’t have it in me.”

***

“It was nice of Billy to volunteer to switch rooms,” Heather said, her head on Alex’s chest. The sheets were a mess, barely covering their naked bodies as they lay on the small bunk, limbs intertwined.

“He didn’t volunteer,” Alex replied, his hand moving from her hair down to the soft skin of her shoulder, her back, her hip and back up again. “I made a strong suggestion.”

“Well, thank you for that strong suggestion,” Heather said, lifting her head up and kissing his lips, then neck before settling her cheek on his chest once again. “My body needed this.”

“Nothing like good sex to get back in shape after spending most of the day as an undead monster,” Alex laughed.

“Not funny,” Heather said, reaching up and tweaking a nipple.

“Ow,” Alex protested weakly, reaching for Heather’s nipple.

“Don’t even try it,” she warned, slapping his hand away.

They lay quiet for a long moment and Alex thought Heather had drifted to sleep when she asked, “Did we really break up?”

“Yes. And it was not pretty.”

“I could just imagine.” She sighed, settling her body closer into his. “My fault or yours?”

“What do you think?”

“Mutual?”

“Of course. God forbid one of us let the other get the upper hand!”

“But we never actually got divorced?”

“Nope. And neither of us pushed the issue. We just quit and walked away. I think we were both in shock after what happened to Mel’s folks.”

“Guess we knew we couldn’t really let each other go.”

“I know I couldn’t,” Alex sighed. “And I’m glad I didn’t…Princess.”

Heather pushed upright and looked deeply into Alex’s eyes. “That’s right! I’m still officially a Russian princess!”

“That you are, with all the rights and privileges. Such as these fine accommodations.” Alex swept his hand about indicating the bunk room that was barely nine meters square.

“As long as there’s a bed, it’s fine by me,” Heather purred, shifting and straddling Alex’s waste. They held each other’s gaze for a moment then kissed deeply, their bodies pressed as close together as possible, trying to become one.

***

Once regal attire, then blood caked tatters, dragged behind the shuffling, undead Empress as she made her way through the ravaged Winter Palace. Her body hunched as she shambled, her head turning at every noise, the predator seeking more food, more flesh to devour.

She had already mutilated half of her personal staff, most of them rushing to help her, thinking she had been injured, not knowing she was death walking. Those that she didn’t savage into immobility shambled along behind her, as they had before their deaths, their usual sycophantic mumblings replaced by hungry grunts and growls. Somewhere in their rotting brains there must have been the vestiges of their training, as they continued to defer to the zombie Empress when living flesh was found, allowing her to feast to her fill before they pounced on the body, hoping it was still warm and to their taste.

Within hours all that hid were found, all that ran were tracked down, all that lived died and soon after rose, joining the rest of the undead creatures that wandered through the many halls of the palace.

***

Zverev’s undead eyes didn’t blink against the blinding rays of the dawn sun as it broke over the buildings of St. Petersburg, illuminating the offal-filled streets and streams of blood flowing towards the sewer grates.

Far off, at the edge of the city, gunfire erupted and Zverev turned towards the noise. Even though it wasn’t the sound of food, his brain was so hard wired from decades of intense military training that compulsion led him in that direction.

After miles of shambling, the sun bright in the sky, warming his dead flesh and the dead flesh of the other zombies that had joined him as he made his way through the brutalized city streets, Zverev met the first wave of the Three’s Shock troops. Their bullets ripped through his body, shredding him and the others until the viral nanotech could no longer repair their forms any longer.

The Shock troops methodically moved from incapacitated zombie to incapacitated zombie, placing one final headshot into each of their brains, ending their existence forever, the nanotech finally drained of energy.

Zverev’s dead eyes looked up at the Shock trooper standing over him and he tried to move his jaw, to snap at the trooper, but he no longer held the energy to do even that. The trooper pulled the trigger and Zverev’s eyes fixed in place, their search for flesh over.

Troopers followed behind the executioners, laying down walls of blue flame, torching the corpses and the nanotech within, turning all into ash that floated lazily in the wake of the forces moving deeper into the city and then onto the Russian landscape beyond.

***

Mr. Stone stared out the front windshield of the HAV as it approached St. Petersburg, his eyes emotionless, but his homicidal tendencies barely kept in check. He longed for the chance to test his new abilities, to wage war without fear of death, to crush and kill without worrying about any bureaucratic repercussions. His hands clenched and unclenched subconsciously and the HAV driver glanced nervously at him on occasion.

You’re fidgeting, Mr. Stone, Reginald said. Relax.

“Relaxation time is long since past, Reginald,” Mr. Stone responded. The HAV driver glanced over at him, but turned away quickly when he saw the violence in Stone’s eyes.

Just a suggestion. Wish I could be there with you.

“You are, Reg. You are.”

“First wave has reported the city clear,” a trooper said over the com.

“Excellent,” Mr. Stone responded. “Let’s move on. Leave one company here for spot checks. ETA until we hit the Chinese border?”

“Twelve hours at full HAV speed, sir,” the trooper responded.

“Then no delays,” Stone ordered. “We push through everything. If we have to level areas to make sure they are cleansed then we do so. I don’t want anything slowing us down. The Jacks have air capabilities and they will use them soon. We need to be as far along as possible before we engage.”

“Understood, sir.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

“Rise and shine, kiddos!” Billy barked, giving Melissa’s then Beth’s bunk a couple good kicks. “Day’s a wastin’ and we got shit to do!”

“Fuck you, Mr. Cheery,” Melissa grumbled, suddenly in a tug of war with Billy over her blanket. “Knock it off, asshole!”

Beth stretched and yawned, wincing as her feet touched the cold, concrete floor. “Okay, you two, that’s enough.” She walked over and pulled the blanket from both of their hands, tossing it at the foot of the bunk.

“Whoa there, Ms. Pantsless!” Billy exclaimed, averting his eyes from Beth as she stood in the middle of the bunk room and worked the kinks out of her body with only a shirt and underwear on.

Beth laughed. “You’ve seen more of me, Billy. And considering I brought you back from the dead, I’d say we’re family now.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to see Mel’s civvies, either, so I’ll just take my leave,” Billy responded, moving to the door. “The General wanted me to tell you he let you both sleep in, since apparently your non-nano bodies need more rest than us Uber-folk, but you have twenty minutes to shit, shower, eat and be in the briefing room. El Generalissimo has a plan he wants to share.”

“Twenty minutes? Fuck that!” Melissa said, grabbing at the blanket once again, but Beth was faster, pulling it out of reach and tossing it into a corner.

“Come on,” Beth said, pulling Melissa out of bed. “It takes you ten minutes just to shit, so you better get moving.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t here that,” Billy laughed from the hallway, already gone and moving onto his next task.

***

“You get any rest?” Alex asked from the cockpit door.

Styles swiveled in the pilot’s chair and laughed when he saw Alex’s face. “Damn! I haven’t seen you this happy since those Italian triplets locked you in their room that time in Bern. I’d have to say you got you some!”

“A gentleman doesn’t speak of such things,” Alex grinned, holding up his hand before Styles could respond. “Now onto the business at hand. We need to talk before the briefing.”

“What’s up, boss man?” Styles asked. “You got that look on your face that means trouble. And guilt.”

“It’s both,” Alex said seriously, taking a seat in the co-pilot’s chair.

***

Heather stepped from the shower and grabbed her towel, drying herself as she walked to the locker with her fresh uniform.

“Hey!” Melissa called out. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Heather stopped drying her hair and smiled at the girls. “Good morning, you two. I’m doing fine, best I’ve felt in a long time.”

Melissa glanced at Beth then back at Heather. “You got laid, didn’t you?”

“Oh, yes I did!” Heather laughed as the girls stripped down and turned on the water. “Thanks for the resurrection energy, Beth. Does wonders on the libido.”

“Anytime,” Beth smiled.

Heather’s smile faltered a bit. “How are you doing?”

Beth rinsed her face. “I’m fine. Just fine.”

“She’s lying,” Melissa said. “I think I’ve known the freak long enough to know that.”

“Ha-ha,” Beth smirked. “Very funny, Mel. No, really, I’m fine. It’s an adjustment, all the new info from the personalities that I’ve had to integrate, but I’ll get used to it.”

“You said something last night about being only four years old,” Heather said, zipping up her uniform. “Care to elaborate?”

“Yeah, you said we’d talk this morning,” Melissa agreed. “Spill it, Beth!”

Beth looked at each and sighed. “Okay, but it’ll have to be the short answer.”

“Any answer is better than none,” Heather said, pulling on her boots. “Let’s hear the short one then.”

“Cloning,” Beth said matter-of-factly. “My body was grown from embryo to adolescence in three years. I’ve been out of the vat for only one year.”

Heather and Melissa stared at her, stunned.

“You’re a clone?” Melissa finally asked.

“Yep, that’s what I just said.”

“Guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” Heather laughed. “Explains a lot.”

“So… So you’re not real?” Melissa stammered. “You’re like some cyborg thingy?”

“No, I’m real. 100% human flesh. I was cloned from the DNA of a Rachel Capreze. She has some type of genetic predisposition to technopathy.”

“Techno-whathy?”

“Technopathy, Melissa,” Heather said. “It means she can mentally manipulate technology. That’s why she can work BC without touching it.”

“And why I can control the nanotech so easily,” Beth added. “Once I had Dr. Lisbon’s knowledge.”

“Damn…” Melissa said, looking confused.

“Yep…damn,” Beth agreed.

***

“Thank you everyone for joining the briefing this morning,” General Millman announced. “I’ll leave the introductions for later. Right now we need to dig in and make sure everyone is on the same page. Colonel?”

“Thank you, sir,” Colonel Smithfield said, standing and addressing the room that was now filled with the base’s limited personnel, as well as Heather, Melissa, Beth, Styles, Billy and Alex. “And thank you to those that joined us last evening. The intel gathered has proven invaluable and since most of our fellow Americans have been brutally murdered, the info could prove key to our very survival as a people.”

“Quit the rhetoric, Colonel, and get to the point,” the General growled.

The Colonel took a deep breath and activated a holo of the region from Russia down to the Indian sea. “As of right now our satellites show the Three’s forces are moving rapidly through the Russian frontier and approaching the Chinese border as we speak. Now, while the Chinese have been gracious enough to let us have our little secret outpost here, they will not come to our aid if we are attacked.” The Colonel zoomed in on the symbols representing the Three’s forces. “Now as of 0845, what was a single contingent has now branched into two. Projected routes show the larger of the two forces heading off through China, more than likely on a course to Beijing. I’m sure the Chinese have already noticed this and are reacting accordingly.”

“Aren’t we in communication?” Heather asked. “They are our allies.”

“They cut communication with us the second the forces split,” Colonel Owens interrupted. “Our guess is they aren’t sure if the smaller force is coming to join us or coming to attack us. Our relationship has always been tenuous at best. Recent events have stretched it to near snapping.”

“We don’t think they will attack us, at least we hope not,” Colonel Smithfield continued. “But all bets are off and we have to act as if we are truly on our own.”

“Except for Australia, Brazil, Mexico and Canada,” Colonel Owens added.

“Canada?” Billy interrupted. “Who the fuck is Canada?”

“That’ll have to wait until later when we move out,” the General answered. “Let’s finish the briefing first, please, Mr. Brenton.”

“Move out…? What?” Billy asked, but quickly shut up when Heather kicked him in the shin.

“Please continue, Colonel,” General Millman glared at Billy.

“Right, to the task at hand,” Colonel Smithfield continued. “Regardless of allies, attackers or motives, we cannot hold this post against the forces the Three are throwing at us. We are too small a group and designed for covert intelligence, not for full on battlefield combat. Most of you are field agents and only joined us recently. We’ll have to play to our strengths, not take them head on.”

“Are they really sending that many at us?” a lieutenant asked from the back wall.

“It’s not the numbers, so much as their capabilities,” Colonel Owens answered. “If I may, Your Highness?”

Alex stood and walked over to the Colonel. “It’s Alex, please.”

The Colonel just nodded and pulled his sidearm as Alex rolled up his sleeve and held out his forearm.

“Sorry about this,” the Colonel apologized.

“Has to be done,” Alex responded, gritting his teeth as the Colonel squeezed the trigger.

The whole room jumped, many shouting, their hands instinctively going to their own sidearms, but soon the room was silent as Alex’s wound knitted back together.

“That is what we are up against, folks,” General Millman barked. “Every last one of those troopers can do that. They are unstoppable.”

“Which is why we aren’t going to try to stop them,” Colonel Owens said, taking over the briefing. “We’re going to evac immediately. As soon as this briefing is over.”

“Um, right now?” Billy asked. “Didn’t you say they were barely at the border? That’s thousands of kilometers away.”

“The viral nanotech is not all they have,” Colonel Smithfield said. “Their HAVs are moving at a speed we haven’t seen before. We aren’t sure how, but it looks like they have new mag drive tech as well.”

“And we do not know what other tech they may have at their disposal,” General Millman added. “We have known for a while that something was going to happen, but the Three have kept things pretty well hidden.”

“Until they nuked half the continent,” Melissa muttered.

“Yes, Ms. Brenton, until that,” the General said. “But that is the past. We have to look to the future.”

“We will be splitting into two divisions,” Colonel Owens said. “The first division will be made up of several of our most skilled combat Ghosts.” Many of the people present nodded in acknowledgement. “That division will be heading into battle against the Three’s forces, and will hopefully give us enough room to get to our destination. Leading that division will be Ms. Walton. They will be transported by Prince Tartarov’s aircraft, which can get them there much faster than HAV.”

“What?” Melissa shouted, jumping to her feet, her face filled with rage as she turned on Alex and Heather. “You two just came back from the dead! You can’t leave now!”

“Sit down, Mel,” Beth said quietly, tugging at Melissa’s arm.

Melissa yanked her arm away and turned to the General. “No way! They are not going!”

“Ms. Brenton, you are an activated Ghost, am I correct?” the General asked calmly.

“Um, yes, but—”

“Then you are under my command now and will do as ordered. Right now I order you to sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up!”

“General…,” Alex warned.

“I’m sorry for the bluntness… No, I’m not sorry for the bluntness,” the General began, getting to his feet. He started to pace back and forth, his eye falling on everyone in the room in turn. “I’m not sure all of you understand what is going on, so let me explain it simply. We are fighting for our very survival. We have lost nearly 80% of the American population in the world. Eighty fucking percent! I don’t intend to lose much more, but in order for the majority of us to survive, we will have to make tactical sacrifices. That is how this is going to work! Now, we aren’t just running blind. We have a goal. The main division will push as fast as possible in HAVs towards the Indian ocean, where there is a small flotilla of American ships waiting for us, led by a man most of you have run across, Colonel Blue Masterson.”

There were many sounds of surprise and approval.

“Blue made it?” Heather said, surprised. “How? I’m sure he was at the Suffolk base when it was destroyed!”

“He was,” the General agreed, a wide smile on his face. “But if you know Blue, he’s one hard-to-kill motherfucker. Somehow he protected himself, and his son, Charlie, was able to get him out of there along with several techs. They met up with some ships that survived and have been picking up stragglers along the way. It’s not a proper Navy in any way, so we have a limited window to rendezvous with them. If they come under heavy attack they will lose.”

“But, General,” a corporal piped up. “That’s straight through the Dead Zone. Won’t the radiation be too dangerous, even with the HAVs?”

“Radiation?” the General bellowed. “You have access to some of the most top secret intel in the world and you are asking about the radiation in the Dead Zone? There ain’t no fucking radiation in the Dead Zone! That was cleaned generations ago!”

“I like this guy,” Styles whispered to Billy.

“Now, what we do have to deal with is mutant fucking zombies!” the General continued. “And these aren’t viral techno-zombies, either. These are your great-great-great-great grandfather’s zombies, but ten times fucking worse! The former radiation mutated those fuckers so they are mean, fast, strong and downright sneaky. You stop to piss and you’ll have thirty on you before you can get your fly down! Once we hit the atmospheric barrier shield we’ll be pushing through non-stop!”

“Um, General?” another lieutenant asked. “What have they been feeding on? The Dead Zone is, well…dead.”

“How the fuck should I know?” the General bellowed. “Do I look like a fucking zombie wrangler to you?” The General changed the holo to a view of India. “We don’t have much time, so I’ll make this simple for you all. You see those dark patches?” The General zoomed in. “Those are groups of zombies. Hundreds of them packed together.” He flipped the image about, showing many different regions. “They group like this all over the country. We don’t know why and we don’t know how they stay alive. The original plague that nearly wiped out North America created zombies that would starve and waste away. These do not.” Several hands were raised. “That’s it for question time. You’ll get more info on the road. You’ve all been given your assignments, so load up and get ready to move out! Anything you don’t know you’ll learn on the way. It’s gonna be a long ride to the ocean. Those not going with us, but with Prince Tartarov, I wish you Godspeed!”

***

Melissa grabbed Heather by the arm in the hallway. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Let go, Melissa,” Heather said calmly. “I’m best suited for this.”

“But it’s a suicide mission! What about me? You’re just going to leave me?”

Heather took Melissa by the shoulders. “I don’t know you. I’m sorry, but the Melissa I know is four years old.”

“But those memories will come back!” Melissa insisted.

“No, Mel, they won’t. I got the scans back from the Techs. Where new memories should be, there is nothing but unmapped grey tissue. My brain was repaired, but those memories were lost forever. I’m not the Heather Walton that you’ve grown up with. That woman died on an exam table in Russia and isn’t coming back. It’s time for me to join her.”

“Come on, Mel,” Beth said gently, pulling her away towards the express lift that would take them down through the mountain and the waiting HAV convoy.

“NO!” Melissa screamed, turning and taking a swing at Beth. Beth dodged easily, swatting Melissa’s wild punch. “She’s my family! My only family!”

“Bullshit, Mel,” Beth said, blocking and ducking as Melissa pressed the attack. “You have Billy. He’s your uncle. And considering what we’ve been through, you’ve got me.” Beth ducked one last punch and grabbed Melissa in a bear hug, pinning her arms to her sides. Beth pressed her forehead to Melissa’s so she couldn’t head butt her and looked directly in her eyes. “We’re family, Mel. You’re all I have. I don’t have anyone else. I was grown in a lab, for fuck’s sake!” She pushed away and waited for another attack, but the fight had gone out of Melissa.

“So, what’s your lame excuse?” Melissa asked Alex.

“My twin brother is dead, my country is in flames and the only person I have ever loved is going on this mission,” Alex smiled sadly. “Plus, Styles needs my extra help when we start the attack. He can fly the BTT, but I’ll be working the weapons systems.” His gaze hardened. “Listen, Mel. As much of a suicide mission as this may be, I don’t plan on giving up. I’ll fight until I’m dead or they are. I promise you that.” He shrugged as a voice called the BTT assault team to the hangar. “And I promise to put Heather’s life and safety before my own.”

“Like hell you will!” Heather protested, but Alex held up his hand and cut her off, his focus on Melissa.

“Understood?” Alex asked.

Melissa thought for a moment, then nodded, fighting the tears in her eyes. “You better keep that promise.”

“With my dying breath,” Alex said, trying to keep his own emotions in check. He grabbed Melissa and hugged her. “You just keep yourself alive. I’ll expect Super Ghost here to help with that.”

Beth laughed, “I’ll do everything I can. As long as she listens.”

“Fat chance,” Heather said, pushing Alex aside and hugging Melissa herself. “She never listened when she was little, I doubt she will now.”

The voice called the BTT assault team once again and Melissa and Heather separated. “I love you, Mel. I always will,” Heather said, turning quickly so Melissa couldn’t see her tears. Alex nodded to them both and followed quickly.

The two girls turned and headed to the lift. They found Billy standing around the corner, wiping at his own eyes.

“What are you blubbering about?” Melissa asked harshly. “You find out there won’t be scabs in the New World?”

“Don’t be a bitch, Mel,” Billy snapped. “We’re all hurting over this.”

Melissa began to protest and Billy jabbed a finger in her face. “I’m not a junkie anymore, Mel. That nanotech zombie shit cleaned that right out of my system. I don’t even have a hint of a craving. But if you keep ragging on me, then I’ll take up a new addiction: kicking your ass!” He began to stomp away, but stopped. “Is that what you’re wearing? What about your suit you made back in Russia?”

Melissa’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe I forgot about that!” She turned on her heel and sprinted towards the hangar. “I’ll be right back! Tell the General to make sure to bring plenty of BC to manipulate! I have work to do! Come on, freak! I need you!”

Beth smiled at Billy and shrugged, running after Melissa.

“Tell the General?” Billy asked aloud, all by himself. “I’ll get right on that, since I’m his favorite person.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The Chinese HAVs set the front, waiting for the Three’s military forces to crest the hill and engage. They never expected the line of shambling forms that came at them instead.

The general in charge of the Chinese forces began shouting orders into the com, calling for all HAVs to open fire and move in. Rockets shot from the machines, exploding in the midst of the undead, sending rotting limbs and body parts meters into the air.

Some of the HAV drivers flinched and broke when their windshields were covered in putrid offal, swerving instinctively, smashing into other HAVs next to them.

Chaos reigned and Mr. Stone grinned from well behind the initial assault, his HAV having just broken through the Chinese border shield, the override code provided to them from one of the Three’s spies having worked perfectly.

As flames erupted from many of the Chinese HAVs, and burning troops poured from the wreckage, Mr. Stone gave the order for all forces to attack.

The battle was over in only a few bloody, brutal minutes.

Mr. Stone told his driver to push on and the Three’s HAVs kept rolling, picking up the undead ground forces as they went. Many HAVs held back and waited for the defeated Chinese troops to rise and join the ranks, their undead bodies falling under the Three’s control.

“Give me an ETA,” Mr. Stone ordered. “Intel intercepted the Jacks’ satellite images and they know we are coming.”

“1,500 kilometers, sir,” the driver answered. “At full speed, our point will hit Lhasa in only seven hours.”

“Good,” Mr. Stone smiled. “Make sure we pick up as many ground troops as we can along the way. But I don’t want the point HAVs to slow down. Let the rear ones gather.”

“I’ll broadcast that now,” the driver said, activating his com.

More fodder, eh, Stone?

“The more the merrier, right? We’ll outnumber them, but after all our failures, Reginald, I don’t plan on underestimating an American again.”

Too bad we learned that lesson too late.

“Too late for you, Reg. Not too late for me.”

Well, that’s a bit harsh…

Mr. Stone didn’t respond, just kept his eyes focused on the landscape ahead.

***

“Good job, Brenton,” the General called over her com. “Those suits you created could possibly keep our people alive back there.”

“Thank you, General,” Melissa responded. “I couldn’t have done it without Beth’s help.”

“I’m currently replicating the design, General, for the rest of our convoy,” Beth interrupted. “I have programmed each suit to be self fitting, so any Ghost can grab one.”

“Perfect, Ms. Laughlin, I wish I could have twenty of you,” the General said.

“No offense, General, but I don’t think twenty of me would want to exist,” Beth responded. “It’s not exactly a full life.”

“Understood,” the General agreed. “I’ll just make do with you then.” He paused briefly, listening to someone not on the com. “The Three’s forces have broken through the border and are pushing into China.” He paused again. “First wave of Chinese forces have been defeated. Second wave has retreated. It’s open land between the Three and us.”

“Alex will slow them down,” Beth insisted, glancing at Melissa, who just stared ahead, refusing to meet her eye.

“I know he’ll try…,” the General trailed off.

***

“We’re here,” Styles said. “Second thoughts? We could always dump the Ghosts and bail.”

“Nice try,” Alex laughed. “Just do a couple sweeps. Let’s get some scans.”

The BTT banked sharply as Styles brought the aircraft around, trying to scan as much area as possible. Soon a holo began to form in the middle of the cockpit and Alex gulped.

“That’s a lot of HAVs,” Alex said.

Styles glanced over and laughed. “There’s more vehicles down there than people up here. Glad I’m staying up here.”

“No need to rub it in, Eddie,” Alex snapped.

“Hey, don’t get your royal silk panties in a bunch, Al,” Styles growled back. “I know your lady is dropping into Hell on Earth, but I need you focused.”

“Who’s in charge here, huh? Me or you?”

“You want me to answer that?” Styles grinned. Alex couldn’t help but grin also.

“Okay, sorry, I’m a little worked up,” Alex apologized. “I just got her back.”

“I understand, man, but you need to suck it up and be ready,” Styles said, his face becoming grim. “Because if we have to, I’m setting the engine cores to red level and diving this thing right into those motherfuckers!”

***

Heather patted her metallic grey-black body suit. “You’re all Ghosts and have been around the block a few times, so I won’t tell you how this shit works,” Heather addressed the twenty men and women seated in the BTT’s cargo hold. “But something you should know is that since we have all been infected, we can all self-repair. Now there is no way Styles can get us close enough to land without the BTT being detected, so we are going to have to jump.”

“Jump?” an older Ghost, Roger Billems, asked. “From how high?”

“About five thousand feet,” Heather said and the group gasped. “But, before you freak, you can trust me that the nanotech in your body will repair all damage. My niece also added a little something extra. The suit will trigger a full body anesthetic upon impact. It won’t block the initial shock, but you won’t be in agony after you hit. Depending on damage, you should be able to repair in just a matter of seconds. You should all have enough energy to do that and take several mortal wounds before…”

“Before we get zombified?” a woman, Jean Lister, asked. “Before we come back as one of those things?”

“Exactly,” Heather answered. “Now, for some great news. Ms. Brenton has programmed the suits to be open source. They will respond to your will as if they were raw BC. Whatever your skills, they will work for you.”

“Really?” a skeptical Ghost, T.L. Jones, asked. “Even projectiles?”

“Yep, just grab more BC as you need mass for reloading,” Heather responded. “Now, that’s the good news.” Heather took a deep breath. “The bad news is that the suits are designed to reprogram the nanotech if you do die. That in and of itself is not bad, since it means you won’t become a mindless killer, but once you are revived, you will need to feed to build your mass back up. Otherwise you won’t last long, at least not as a thinking person. You’ll revert to zombie consciousness in a matter of minutes.”

“Feed?” Jean Lister asked. “You mean…flesh?!?”

“Yes, sorry, but there’s no way around it,” Heather stated. “And fresh. You’ll need to kill and consume before the body cools. Either that, or you’re lost forever and will have to be put down.”

“Cheery,” a Ghost said from the back. “Eat flesh or die. Great…”

Heather gave everyone a moment for it all to sink in. “Any questions?”

“Why the fuck did I volunteer for this?” a Ghost next to Heather asked.

“You didn’t,” another answered.

“Ahhh, that explains it!”

They all chuckled nervously, but went quiet quickly, left alone with their thoughts. Soon several of them were retching and throwing up red-black goo.

“Yeah, you’re gonna be doing that, too,” Heather stated. “Sorry.”

***

“Heather?” Styles called over the com. “I’m holding steady. Depart when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Styles,” Heather responded. “Go ahead and unlock cargo doors.”

“Done. Godspeed.”

“Thanks, Styles,” Heather said. She was quiet for a moment. “Can you give me and Alex a private channel?”

Styles looked over at the prince and grinned. “Will do.”

Alex nodded and left the cockpit. “We’re alone,” he said over the com.

“I don’t know all the details of what happened to us,” Heather began. “But you need to know however ugly it got, I have always loved you and will forever.”

“I know that,” Alex smiled. “I always have known that. It’s why I never pressed for the divorce. I knew someday we’d be back together.”

“Too bad we have to die now…”

“That is unfortunate…”

The silence between them was thick with emotions neither could put into words.

“Good bye, my Prince,” Heather sniffed.

“Good bye, Princess.”

***

“Sir, we have something on the scanners,” the HAV driver announced to Mr. Stone.

“Bring it up on holo,” Mr. Stone said, turning his attention from the windshield.

An image lit up and Mr. Stone furrowed his brow. “Zoom in. What are those? Missiles?”

“No, sir, they aren’t giving off any explosives signature,” the driver answered. “It looks like they’re people, sir!”

Mr. Stone zoomed in and his eyes went wide. His surprise was soon replaced with respect. “They’re dropping on us. Get every gun we can on them. The second their chutes open let them have it.”

“Yes, sir,” the driver said, sending the orders to the rest of the HAVs.

Crazy Jacks! Leave it to them to drop in uninvited!

“Quiet, Reg,” Mr. Stone growled. “I need to focus. I’ll call you when I need you.”

You’re the boss, Stone.

Mr. Stone watched the figures fall, checking their position against the altitude reading on the holo. When the first person sped past the safe height for chute deployment, Mr. Stone began to worry. When they all passed the height and kept coming, Mr. Stone activated his com. “Fire! I want every gun blasting those assholes out of the sky!”

“Sir, trajectories show that each body is aimed right for an HAV! I don’t think they intend to deploy chutes!”

“No shit, idiot!” Mr. Stone yelled. “Why the fuck do you think I just gave the order to fire?”

In seconds, the first body slammed into a rear HAV, crushing the front of it, bringing the assault vehicle to a grinding halt. Soon, the rest of the Ghosts impacted and the battle began.

***

“I have missiles fixed on the HAVs that weren’t stopped,” Alex yelled. “Get me as close as possible so I can blast these fuckers!”

“I’m right here, man,” Styles warned. “You don’t have to yell. I’ll bring us down to 1,200 feet, but anything closer and they might pick us up if they know what to look for.”

“Works for me,” Alex said, watching the altimeter, ready to launch the missiles as soon as possible.

***

For a brief moment, Heather Walton thought she’d die, the pain was so intense. But that moment ended and the anesthetic kicked in and so did Heather.

She pushed herself up and was fighting for her life even before she could get to her feet. The impact of several slugs knocked her about, but she compensated quickly, ducking under a kick from one of the Shock troops while she shoved another into the way of the gunfire. Bullets ricocheted off the Shock trooper’s armor and rebounded around the damaged HAV.

The anesthetic wore off in just seconds and Heather could now feel the BC humming about her, ready for her to grab on and change it at her whim. She blocked a swing from a trooper and planted both hands firmly on his arm, changing the BC suit from the man’s protection to his downfall. The suit compressed until the man’s body was squeezed out of whatever cracks it could fit through, leaving a compacted pile of blood, guts and metal on the HAV’s deck.

“Step up, boys!” Heather shouted. “Time to die!”

***

Ghost T.L. Jones rolled from the roof of the HAV he landed on, pissed he hadn’t penetrated the machine’s hull and done more damage.

He watched the back end of the HAV descend and a stream of Shock troops pour forth. He instantly reinforced his suit, making sure his armor was more than a match for their weapons. Stepping straight into the attack, he shifted his weight, keeping the barrage of gunfire from slowing him down, absorbing the bullets into his mass.

When he knew he was close enough to do maximum damage, he reformed the BC around his arms and shoulders into a dual mini-gun set up. With a grin on his face, he let loose with 850 rounds a second. Even with their armor, the Shock troops were soon cut down, their bodies ripped apart. T.L. stepped to the side and placed his hand on the HAV, taking from it as much BC as he could, creating a bridge between the metal and his mini-guns. He started firing the second the first Shock troop reanimated and came at him. The hull of the HAV slowly came apart as the BC was absorbed and used to reload the mini-guns. When the first gun seized, its mechanism overheated and useless, T.L. let the hot BC fall away and formed two new guns, able to keep the attack up with only a moment’s hesitation.

***

Her neck snapped, repaired, snapped again, repaired once more, then was entirely crushed as Ghost Jean Lister fell from the HAV she hit and was run over by the vehicle’s massive wheels.

She tried to roll out of the way when her neck knitted back together once more, but the rear wheels of the vehicle crushed her legs, ripping them right from her torso. She watched in horror as her blood gushed from the nubs that were left. Her vision swam and went grey then black then gone.

When she woke she noticed two things: that her body felt good as new and that she was ravenous. She sat up, but just a split second too late to see the BC boot before it hit her in the face. While she was protected by her suit, her head still rocked back violently. There may have been pain with the attack, but all Jean cared about was ripping the BC armor off the trooper and getting at the hot, pulsing flesh inside. She was on her feet, the BC on her hands shifting into long thin rods in a blink. She slammed the rods into the chest of trooper. Once contact was made she willed the BC suit to melt and reveal the man inside.

Jean Lister flipped her visor up and sank her teeth into the man’s throat before he could ward her off. She didn’t care as fists tried to pull her off of him, and when that didn’t work, started to bash her about the head and back. All she cared about was the blood and flesh filling her mouth and belly.

As she fed, the man’s body cooled and she let herself be dragged away, the power and strength of a fresh feed singing in her muscles. Two more punches was all she took before she let loose on the dozen Shock troops surrounding her, ripping them apart when her natural talent, enormous spikes that extended from her fingers, toes, elbows and the backs of her ankles, kicked in. She knew she shouldn’t feel the joy that she did as she gutted and decapitated the troopers that tried to take her down, but at that moment she truly, honestly didn’t care, the monster side of the viral nanotech suppressing any and all guilt.

***

“Seven HAVs destroyed by missiles,” Alex announced. “Five destroyed and eight damaged by Ghost impact. That leaves twenty-six still fully functional.”

“So?” Styles asked. “You gonna take those out or talk about it all day long?”

“I was thinking about taking a break,” Alex grinned. “Maybe some nice wine and cheese?”

“Cheese is all gone,” Styles said. “Sorry, got the munchies last night. I’ll take some wine though.”

Alex focused the eight large caliber guns onto eight individual targets. “No time for wine. As soon as I pull this trigger we won’t be hidden anymore. They’ll track the trajectory and start firing up.”

“Surprised they haven’t already,” Styles grinned. “But I guess there hasn’t been an air attack in warfare in nearly four hundred years. Fire away, chief!”

Alex squeezed the trigger and 50 caliber bullets flew from the BTT, hell bent on ripping some holes in everything in their path.

***

“Sir! They’re Ghosts!” a trooper shouted over the com. “We’re being ripped apart!”

“Of course they’re Ghosts! Who the fuck did you think they would send?” Mr. Stone yelled back. “There’s only about twenty of them! Fucking kill ‘em!”

“Sir!” the driver yelled. “Large caliber rounds are coming from above!”

Mr. Stone checked the readings, but it was hardly needed as he could see out the windshield the effects of the slugs. “Scan the sky now! They’ve still got something up there and I want it brought down!”

“Yes, sir!” the driver responded, switching his main sensors to vertical. “What am I looking for, sir?”

“How the fuck should I know? Just start firing up!” Mr. Stone could hear more shouts and calls for help. He activated an open com channel. “Attention all troopers! Stop fighting like you want to live! YOU CAN”T FUCKING DIE! Stop those mother fucking Jacks right the fuck now!”

Mr. Stone slammed his fist against the dash of the HAV, wishing for just one Reginald on the outside, instead of the thousands of idiots he was dealing with. “FUCK!”

***

Billems linked one end of a BC line to an overturned HAV then dashed thirty yards to another, dodging bullets as he ran. Several of the Three’s Shock troops tried to stop him, but with a flick of his wrist the BC line whipped across their necks, severing their heads instantly.

Although Billems kept moving, he tried to keep an eye on the decapitated troopers, waiting to see if they would be able to put themselves back together. He attached one more line to a third crushed HAV and sighed.

“That should give me enough mass,” he muttered as he closed his eyes. The HAVs began to shake and shudder, their BC mass liquefying and changing, flowing towards him. He continued to fight off Shock troops as he gathered the BC, but it was proving more and more difficult to do both tasks at one time.

Finally, Billems made a choice and let the troops attack him, hoping he could race the damage they were doing to his body. Just as he thought he would lose consciousness, Billems was able to fully gather the BC to him, knocking Shock troops out of the way with the mass of metal.

As the flowing metal began to form, the attacking Shock troops started to fall back, unsure of what they were seeing.

“Billems? What are you doing over there?” Heather called over the com. “What the fuck is that thing?”

“Mechanized battle armor!” Billems called out as a small cockpit formed about him and he was lifted high into the air. The cockpit stood on two long, multi-jointed legs, bringing Billems to a height of easily eight meters. From each side of the cockpit an arm sprouted, but instead of hands, the arms ended in an array of weapons. From mini-guns to rocket launchers, the new machine was ready to destroy.

“What the hell is that thing?” a Ghost asked over the com as Billems opened fire.

“I come from a long line of engineers!” Billems shouted over the blasts and concussions. “My grandfather had schematics that he said came from the ‘old country’. He said they were original prototypes of ‘mechs’. I’ve always wanted to build one and figured today is my last chance!”

“Just don’t step on any of us!” another Ghost cried.

An RPG exploded close to Billems’ cockpit and he struggled to maintain the mech’s balance. “I got this!” he shouted as he kept himself upright. He mentally adjusted his height, giving himself a lower center of gravity and a little more stability. Instantly he noticed his weapons accuracy greatly increased.

Four HAVs converged on Billems from every side at once and he leapt into the air, letting two of the vehicles collide with each other. The other two HAVs pulled up short and opened fire with more RPGs. The rocket concussions sent Billems sprawling, but he didn’t let that slow him down as he rolled to the side, launching several RPGs of his own at the HAVs. All four exploded, showering the immediate battlefield with hot metal and burning bodies.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Hours went by and Mr. Stone slowly pushed his HAV and ground forces through the Ghost attack. No matter what he threw at them, the Jacks wouldn’t stop and what should have been a slaughter in his favor was turning into an embarrassment.

“Reinforcements have arrived, sir!” Mr. Stone’s driver announced. “They are cresting the hill right now!”

“It’s about fucking time!” Mr. Stone grinned as he checked the holo. Even with their enhanced abilities the Ghosts wouldn’t stand a chance against what was coming.

***

“SPIDERS!” Styles shouted.

“What? Where?” Alex asked, watching the readings on the holo scan. Bright orange spots began to cover the screen. “Holy god…”

***

“Heather?!?” Alex called over the com. “You have serious incoming! Spiders and lots of them!”

“What direction?” Heather asked as she impaled ten Shock troops in a row, a BC spike extending from her hand. She yanked the spike back and hot, steaming guts emptied from each trooper, spilling onto the battlefield. A nearby Ghost rolled several incendiary grenades her way and she kicked each right at the gutted troopers. Their bodies went up in white flame, the BC and flesh melting off them in large, hot drops.

“Every direction!” Alex shouted. “They have you surrounded!”

“How many?” Heather screamed, taking several bullets in her midsection. She gasped for breath while she waited for Alex’s answer. “Alex? How many?”

“Two hundred…” Alex barely managed to say. “Heather…you have two hundred Spiders coming at you…”

***

Heather knew Alex was talking, but her mind tuned him out. She focused on the Shock troops and the HAVs; the sea of zombies and the other Ghosts trying to fight and survive. She felt the shockwave of a nearby RPG explosion and struggled to keep her footing. Only the blinding pain in her abdomen brought her back to reality.

She looked down to see a large chunk of HAV armor sticking from her midsection. Collapsing to her knees, she tried to pull the shrapnel out, but some of it was warped and twisted, lodging the metal between two of her lower ribs.

“Get up,” she told herself. “Pull that shit out and fight. You aren’t going down this way.”

Heather concentrated and reformed the BC scrap, yanking it free and tossing it aside. Several Shock troops converged on her and she went down under a flurry of driving fists and brutal kicks.

“Spiders!” she yelled over an open com channel. “We have incoming Spiders, people! I need a head count now! Sound off so I know who’s with us!” Twelve of the twenty Ghosts responded. “Well, that’s better than I had hoped!”

She burst from the pile, her hands ripping right through bodies, gripping the spines of two Shock troopers. The others fell quickly after.

***

“Have all HAVs move out!” Mr. Stone ordered. “We’re pushing on while the Ghosts are dealing with the Spiders. No need to stick around, we’ll just get in the way.”

“What if the Ghosts pursue?” the driver asked.

“Two hundred Spiders are about to pounce on them,” Mr. Stone grinned. “And as much as I want to witness this, we need to get to Lhasa as soon as possible.”

The driver gave the order and Mr. Stone watched on the holo as the remaining eighteen HAVs pulled into formation, continuing on towards Tibet.

***

“They’re moving out!” T.L. yelled.

“Spiders aren’t known for their restraint,” Heather replied. “The HAVs probably want to keep out of the way of friendly fire.”

Heather spun in the air, her legs outlined with ever-changing blades, and the zombies the Three’s forces had enlisted fell. Most reformed and came at her again, but she kept twisting, ducking, hacking and cutting until she had a wide berth about her. She felt bad for some of the creatures, knowing they had probably been shopkeepers, farmers, simple rural folk that were killed and recruited along the way.

For the Shock troops she had no sympathy at all and attacked without restraint, until there were no more troops left willing to engage her. Most followed after the HAVs, but many stayed behind to fight, finding other Ghosts that didn’t have as much carnage lying about them.

Heather had begun to pursue a group of troopers when the screams started. She looked to the horizon and watched in horror as zombie bodies flew about in the wake of the onrushing Spiders. She turned about her and everywhere she looked, Spiders were coming.

Her confidence tested, Heather spoke out. “I need ideas, people! We can’t let the HAVs move on, but there is no way to get to them through all the troops, the zombies and the Spiders now!”

“We’ll come get you folks,” Styles shouted over the com.

“We will?” Alex asked. “How are we going to do that?”

“You’re going to shoot the shit out of those things, while I fly right into the middle of it all!” Styles announced. “That means all you Ghosties will need get to the center of the shit!”

“Everyone on me!” Heather shouted. “What’s the plan, Styles? You can’t pull us all up in the cage!”

“No, I can’t,” Styles agreed. “But, I can land right on top of you.”

“Did he say land on top of us?” a Ghost asked.

“Yep, that’s what I said. Y’all need to get in as tight a group as possible. I’ll open the bottom cargo bays and plop right on ya. We won’t have much time though, since I’ll have to disengage the stealth system so you can see me. As soon as I do that the Spiders will target the BTT and head straight for us. You’ll have about thirty seconds to all get on board. How’s that sound?”

“Sounds like suck,” Billems answered. “But I think I can give you folks some extra time.”

Screams erupted over the com and Heather knew some Ghosts had met the first wave of Spiders.

“Listen!” Heather shouted. “The Spiders will tear us into as many pieces as possible to keep us from coming back! Do not try to fight them!”

“Can’t we manipulate their BC?” a Ghost asked.

“No!” another responded. “I’m trying, but something is blocking the connecti—” The woman’s voice was cut short.

“On me, NOW!” Heather ordered. “Our objective is to take out the HAVs! We’ll have to figure out the Spiders later!”

Heather could hear panicked Ghost voices, several more cut short as the Spiders fell on them.

***

“You know what you’re doing?” Alex asked Styles.

“Fuck no!” Styles laughed. “I’m making this up as I go!”

“That’s why I pay you the big credits.”

“You don’t have enough credits in the world to pay for the past couple days.”

“Well, if we live through this I’ll give you a sweet bonus…if we live through this.”

“That’s depressing.”

“Yes, yes it is.”

***

The remaining Ghosts grouped around Heather.

“Billems!” she shouted. “Get out of that thing and get your ass over here!”

“No can do!” Billems responded. “I told you I would buy you some time and that’s what I plan on doing!”

“It’s suicide!” Lister called.

“It always was! I was planning on dying, so die I will! Just get your asses on that fucking aircraft!” Billems turned his mech back towards the stream of Spiders coming at them. He opened fire with everything he had, obliterating the front row of Spiders, their long BC legs flying everywhere and screeches coming from all.

He spun in a circle, trying to give the group as much room as possible.

“Billems!” Styles shouted over the com. “Get out of the way! Your machine is too tall! I can’t get close enough!”

Billems stepped away from the group and two Spiders pounced. He ducked one, but the second caught him square in the cockpit. Billems slammed at it again and again, finally dislodging the thing. He tried to fire, but three more attacked and he barely dodged them in time.

“This ain’t working,” he muttered to himself and the weapons at the end of his arms changed form, becoming massive hands. “Let’s go at it, motherfuckers!”

He punched with fists and blocked with forearms, sending many Spiders back into the others, tangling them up and slowing their attack.

The group could feel the air above them shift and suddenly the BTT was there. They all stood stock still as it hovered inches above the ground, swallowing them up in the cargo hold. They scrambled inside, grabbing onto anything they could as the BTT’s cargo bay shut and the aircraft accelerated away.

Heather sprinted up out of the cargo hold and burst into the cockpit. “Show me the holo! Now!”

“Good to see you too, sweetheart,” Alex grinned, but obliged Heather, zooming the holo in on Billems.

The man/machine fought on. For every Spider he crushed or tossed five more replaced it. His massive metal limbs flew in all directions, fighting desperately to keep the Spiders from leaping up at the BTT. Ten Spiders attacked at once, taking out Billem’s legs.

The Ghosts, now all gathered at the cockpit door, gasped and some turned away as bits of BC were shredded from Billem’s mechanized armor.

The com crackled to life and Alex put it through the speaker. “I’ve…got something…else…up my…sleeve,” he gasped. “Tell…my son...I love…him.”

They all turned away as a blinding bright light erupted below and Alex cut the holo. “Fucking punch it, Styles! He just detonated something big!”

Styles accelerated as quickly as he could and the Ghosts flew back from the cockpit door, their bodies tumbling over seats and against the walls. The BTT hit mach 2 and was away from the blast area before the shockwave could knock them from the sky.

“Okay! Okay!” Heather screamed, her body wedged into the doorframe of the cockpit. “We’re gone!”

Styles slowed down and Alex brought up the holo scans.

“Now, let’s find those fucking HAVs,” Alex growled as he searched for the Three’s forces.

***

General Millman sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes. He saw the holo scan of the battlefield detonation and knew that it was all over. “What do the other scans say?” he asked a tech seated behind him.

“Eighteen HAVs disengaged and are already nearing our base, sir,” the tech responded.

“Excellent. Once they are in range then detonate,” General Millman ordered. “Let’s make sure they can’t pursue.”

“Yes, sir.”

The General turned to his driver. “How’s our progress?”

“Moving along fine, sir,” the driver responded. “All drivers are being relieved every eight hours. At our steady pace we will reach the coastal rendezvous in thirty-six hours.”

“As long as we don’t run into trouble,” the General added.

“God willing, sir.”

Leaning back in his seat, General Millman said a silent prayer for the good souls that were lost in battle and for the souls under his watch that were still alive and trying to get to safety. He hoped they could get to the coast without incident, but he knew better.

***

“So, what’s the plan?” Alex asked Heather. “Gonna drop again?” Heather stared out the windshield. Alex waved his hand in front of her face. “Hey, gorgeous? You in there?”

Heather slowly focused on Alex’s face. “Yes, we’re dropping in again. We have to stop the HAVs. Even if they can’t catch up to our folks, we have to stop them from infecting more people. This could spread to epidemic proportions in just days.”

Sounds of retching and wet splashes echoed from the cabin. Plus a couple low moans.

“Um, what’s going on in there?” Alex asked, leaning around to see past Heather.

“Sludge puking,” Heather answered. “And we have two Ghosts that just turned and are, well…hungry.”

“Keep them the fuck away from me!” Styles shouted in alarm. “I ain’t no tasty treat!”

“That’s why I’m standing in the doorway, dumbass,” Heather growled.

“We’re here,” Alex said. “They are at the base of the mountain and…”

“And, what?” Heather asked when Alex didn’t continue.

“And they are going around. Looks like they aren’t heading to the base after all.”

“Shit!” Styles cried. “They know we have it set to blow. They’re going right for our convoy.”

“Pretty sure I know why,” Heather said. “They want Beth. She’s been their target from the very beginning.”

“An actual working Vessel would be pretty handy. You could transport nearly limitless information without detection. Or risk of the info being deleted or erased.”

“She could still be killed,” Styles said.

“They’ve been trying,” Heather responded. “But, they haven’t even come close. That makes her even more valuable. Imagine what they could do with working Vessels and their nanotech…”

“Not to mention the knowledge gained from Dr. Lisbon’s experience. I’ll get the General on the com,” Alex said. “Styles, you get us ahead. We’re dropping the Ghosts on the ground instead of an air attack. Heather, you get everyone ready. We need skills sharp. Hopefully we can take them by surprise.” Warnings blared in the cockpit. “Styles? What’s going on?”

“Missile lock!” Styles shouted and the BTT banked a hard right. “I don’t know how, but they spotted us!”

“They must have figured out a way when we came out of stealth back there! The Spiders must have scanned us and sent them the specs!”

“No, it’s us. Me and the other Ghosts,” Heather said. “It’s their tech in our bodies. That’s what they scanned for. They just knew to look up.”

“Shouldn’t the stealth tech block the scans?” Alex said looking at Styles.

“Sorry, chief, but when you and I designed this thing, we weren’t counting on zombie virus nanotech being on board. Who knows what signal that shit gives off!”

“Looks like we drop,” Heather stated. “They’re gonna see us if we land in front. There’s no way to ambush them.”

“You better get everyone ready,” Styles insisted. “I’ll try to dodge these missiles, but eventually they’ll get us.”

“I’m on it,” Heather said, turning from the cockpit to the Ghosts in the cabin. “Okay! Listen up people!”

Chapter Thirty

“Did any Spiders make it through?” Mr. Stone asked.

“Yes, sir,” his driver replied. “Nearly three dozen are en route to our coordinates.”

“What about missiles? Did they strike anything above us?”

“Not yet, sir. They do appear to have locked onto some nanotech signatures, but…”

“But, what?”

“Looks like they’ve dropped again, sir! They’re coming right at us!”

“Fire everything we have at them! Don’t let those Jacks touch ground!”

***

Missiles filled the sky and the Ghosts tried to adjust their suits’ forms, hoping to get some extra maneuverability, but those that lacked any aerodynamic knowledge made too many mistakes and several Ghosts careened right into the missiles’ paths.

One Ghost exploded on impact, the resulting shockwaves knocking three more Ghosts unconscious, sending their bodies plummeting to the ground, spinning wildly out of control. Two of the Ghosts that collided with the missiles, but were lucky enough not to set the projectiles off, had the same idea at the same time and wrapped their bodies about the missiles. They reformed their suits into protective shields, keeping the others safe from the shockwaves that erupted when the missiles finally detonated and sent the two Ghosts speeding to the earth as giant fireballs.

“We won’t even get to the HAVs if this keeps up!” Jean Lister yelled over the com.

“Can’t really turn back now!” Heather shouted.

***

“I want Shock troops on the Ghosts that just hit the ground!” Mr. Stone ordered. “Torch them so they don’t come back!”

A following HAV unloaded twenty of its Shock troops and they converged on each of the fallen Ghosts, setting them ablaze with burning hot phosphorous before they could regain consciousness. The lucky ones never did wake up. The screams of those that did echoed across the landscape.

“All guns to the sky!” Mr. Stone yelled. “Try to pick them off!”

But Mr. Stone was too late in his order, as the remaining Ghosts slammed into the ground, with only two of them hitting an HAV.

***

“Holy fuck!” Heather screamed. “There’s no second dose of anesthetic!”

“You folks okay?” Alex asked over the com. A chorus of derisive language spewed at him instantly. “Sorry! Stupid question!”

T.L. struggled to gain his feet, but never made it, a stream of phosphorous hitting him square in the chest. His screams filled the com as a hole burned through his suit, then his skin, his ribs, lungs, and out his back. His body tried to repair itself, but the phosphorous was too fast and eventually he was reduced to smoldering scraps that twitched for a moment and then were still.

“They have our number!” Heather shouted. “Take out the phos throwers!” Heather looked about as she opened fire on the Shock troops rushing at her and realized that besides herself, only Jean and another Ghost named Scritch Roberts, were left. “Fuck!”

Jean’s spikes extended quickly, impaling the front trooper with the phos thrower, ripping his throat out. She twisted her spike and hooked the phos thrower, ripping it out of the choking man’s hands and into hers. “Let’s even the numbers!” She let loose and began to cut a path through the troopers, turning their bodies into burning, flashing piles of screaming, fusing, melting flesh and metal.

“Right behind you!” Heather said following in Jean’s wake, firing at any trooper that came from the sides. She started to notice that the bullets impacting against her suit were hurting more and more and she realized her energy was running low. She’d need to feed soon or she wouldn’t be able to repair much longer.

The first trooper that got close enough, Heather gored him, prying his suit open and scooping out as many organs as possible. She brought the nutrient rich liver to her mouth and tore off chunks, barely chewing the meat before she swallowed. She never stopped blasting though, making sure the troopers couldn’t take down Jean.

***

“Another HAV down, sir!” Stone’s driver announced. “Only three Ghosts left, but the troops are having a hard time with them.”

“A hard time?” Mr. Stone roared. “I’ll show them all what a hard time is!”

Atta boy, Mr. Stone! Let’s give them what for!

Stone stood from his seat and shoved his way out of the HAV and into the battle. He grabbed whatever BC he could from around him, even if it was still part of a trooper’s suit and formed the material into a large cannon. He caught Heather’s eye and he could see her face turn white under the liver blood smeared across her cheeks.

***

“Who the fuck is this guy? I know him, right?” Heather yelled over the com. “The mother fucker has Ghost abilities! How the fuck is that possible?”

“I don’t know…” Alex responded. “Ghosts have to be genetically engineered from birth!”

“Thanks for the science lesson, Al. I know how a Ghost is made!”

“Just talking out loud, sweet thing,” Alex replied. “What’s he doing with his impossible skills?”

***

Stone created a large tripod and lifted the cannon on top to steady it, setting anchors deep into the ground. While he was now strong enough to wield the massive weapon, the shear force from the recoil would send him flying.

Keep it steady, Stone. It would be quite embarrassing to miss with this big thing.

“Hush now, Reginald.”

Why’d you pick a cannon anyway? It’s a bit unwieldy.

“First thing that came to mind. Who am I to argue with inspiration?”

Well, not me! Let the inspired destruction begin!

Stone watched Jean and Heather get closer and closer. When they were twenty meters out he pointed the cannon at them, and the thirty Shock troops they were battling, and fired.

The shell sped from the weapon and rocketed towards its target. Heather tried to pull Jean out of the way, but Jean shook her off, turning her phos thrower on the incoming projectile.

The ensuing explosion seemed to suck the oxygen out of the area and Heather felt as if her lungs were being ripped from her chest. She could feel the heat of the detonation, and then the pain, as phosphorous coated shrapnel hit her suit and began to eat its way through to her skin.

She forced herself to her feet, ripping the damaged parts of her suit off of her, and found herself facing the approaching figure of Mr. Stone.

In her experience, although now thirteen years less due to memory loss, Heather had learned how to tell the difference between cold blooded killers and those that killed for their jobs. The look on Mr. Stone’s face told Heather he was neither. His face was that of the pure predator. Killing wasn’t a job or part of some warped mind. Mr. Stone killed because it was what his warped soul was put on Earth to do.

“Ms. Walton!” Mr. Stone shouted. “I am beyond pleased that we actually get to meet face to face!”

Faster than Heather thought possible, Mr. Stone knelt, grabbed up some stray BC and had it formed and flying at her. She barely moved out of the way as several small blades whizzed past her head.

“Little knives aren’t going to take me down!” she shouted at Stone. “You’ll have to do better than that!”

“I did!” Mr. Stone grinned.

Heather spun about in time to see the blades combine into one long curved weapon that whipped about and changed its course, heading right back at her. She ducked and rolled, but the edge caught her shoulder, nearly taking her whole arm off. She winced and got to her feet. That was when the four other curved blades Mr. Stone had just formed embedded themselves in her chest and abdomen.

Bravo, Stone! Well done!

“You’re pretty skilled with the getaway, but your one on one needs a little work,” Mr. Stone laughed as he closed the distance between Heather and himself, leaping into the air and bringing his knee down directly onto Heather’s face. The crunch of bone could easily be heard over the other sounds of battle as the only other Ghost left, Scritch, kept fighting off the troopers.

Mr. Stone glanced over at the lone Ghost. “Looks like your buddy is holding his own.” He yanked the blades from Heather’s body and tossed them into the battle. Troopers cried out as the blades sliced through them to get at Scritch. The Ghost never saw them coming and when they hit and passed by, he actually had time to look down at his body before it separated into five pieces. “Phos him!”

Mr. Stone pulled Heather to her feet and turned her broken face towards the spectacle, as troopers turned Scritch’s parts into five burning piles of white hot BC and flesh.

“I know you aren’t the last Ghost,” Mr. Stone growled. “But your death will be sweet.” Heather struggled against Stone’s grip, but the man was too strong. “Stop, Ms. Walton. Just stop. You’re embarrassing yourself.”

You have her now, Mr. Stone. Oh, you have her good!

With the Ghosts gone, the remaining troopers marched back to their HAVs. Mr. Stone forced Heather to watch until the last one was loaded.

“You see that, Ms. Walton? That’s what the future looks like,” Mr. Stone snarled in her ear. “No more privileged monarchs, no more overbearing religions, no more fucking Jacks thinking they know what is right for everyone! The future will be ordered. The future will be efficient. And for those that don’t step in line, the future will be brutal.”

“You’re…a…fucking…psycho,” Heather gasped through broken teeth that every time they repaired Mr. Stone just smiled and shattered again.

“Psychosis is defined by a distorted perception of reality, Ms. Walton. I may have a different view, but my perception of reality is not distorted. Not for long anyway.”

“Fuck…you…,” Heather said.

“Pity those are your last words,” Mr. Stone said as he started to form several more blades, but paused as a whining noise from above caught his attention. “Wha…?”

“Those…aren’t my…last words,” Heather whispered. “My last words…are…I love you…Alex”

***

“Well, chief, we knew this was coming,” Styles said, disengaging from the BTT’s control console as the aircraft screamed towards the Earth.

“We certainly did, Eddie,” Alex said, pulling a flask from an inside pocket and taking a long pull. “Here. It’s a private batch for Russian royalty only.”

Styles took the flask and drained it. “Thanks.”

Alex laughed as Styles handed him the empty flask. The laugh was the last sound he ever made.

***

“We’ve lost contact with the BTT, sir,” a Tech informed the General. “Its last known coordinates just went nuclear.”

“Guess the Ghosts did what they could before the prince did what he had to,” the General said solemnly. “Get me a private com to Melissa Brenton and Billy Brenton.”

***

Melissa looked over at her uncle as soon as the General gave them both the news. Billy’s eyes were pooling with tears, but he fought to keep control.

Melissa got up from her seat and yanked Billy to his feet. He started to protest, but gave up when she wrapped her arms about him and buried her face in his chest, her sobs and shaking grief bringing them both to their knees.

Beth watched for a second, but turned away from the two stricken figures kneeling on the HAV’s floor, trying to give them some privacy. The few American personnel that were in the hold with them turned away also, but each felt their own pain and grief over the friends, colleagues, lovers and children lost over the past few days of hell.

***

Through the smoldering blast site, the Spiders came. The EMP that went out after the BTT detonated seemed to slow them down briefly, but did not stop them.

The area was still so hot the Spiders’ feet melted and reformed each time they touched the ground, so they increased their speed, honing in on the last signal they received showing them where the American convoy was.

What flesh was inside the BC bodies did not feel the effects of the nuclear blast. They couldn’t feel the heat or the intense radiation.

All the flesh could feel was the drive to hunt and kill. To get to their target and exterminate. To end the Americans’ existence on Earth.

The Spiders crawled into and out of the blast crater, alien creatures in their own world.

Chapter Thirty-One

Melissa wiped at her eyes and sat down next to Beth.

“Hungry?” Beth asked, rummaging through the rations pack she and Melissa were given when they loaded onto the HAV. “I know you probably aren’t right now, but you should eat something while you can.”

Melissa robotically took the small container from Beth, but didn’t open it, just sat there rolling it in her hands. Beth took it back from her and popped the top, revealing stew of some sort and handed it back to her with a small spoon she formed from the top.

“There. Eat,” she insisted.

Melissa stirred the contents, but still didn’t eat.

“I know you blame me for all this,” Beth said. “I’ve been a burden on your whole family since we left Gramercy.”

“What?” Melissa asked sharply. “Burden? We’re American’s! Ghosts! If it wasn’t you, it would have been some other mission down the line. The only old Ghosts are Ghosts that took a desk job or a promotion out of field work.” Melissa looked hard into Beth’s eyes. “That is less than five percent. Didn’t have that fact locked away in your multiple personalities, did you?”

Beth smiled weakly. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Well, it’s true. Every time Heather would leave for a mission I prepared myself. She’d always make sure I knew where her will was, the deed to the brownstone, all the bank account numbers and the paperwork I would need to fill out to emancipate myself so I didn’t become a ward of the system.”

“I would have taken you in,” Billy said before he realized what he was saying.

Melissa rolled her eyes at him, but didn’t respond.

“Sorry…,” Billy added, turning back to his own thoughts.

“At least I’ve been with her these last few days, right?” Melissa said. “I know what happened and why. It’s not like I got a knock at the door and was handed a flag and regrets.” Melissa laughed. “Although, since Ghosts never technically existed and were outside the Articles of Sanctuary, I guess I wouldn’t have even gotten that!”

Beth smiled and squeezed Melissa’s hand. “That’s true. I hope I can have that attitude if…” She trailed off realizing she didn’t have anyone. Any memories of family were just vague outlines of people she didn’t really know; just shadows of someone else’s life.

Melissa, sensing Beth’s train of thought, said, “You can have Billy.” The two girls laughed quietly.

“What?” Billy asked, looking hurt. “I’m just the uncle you can give away? Thanks, Mel…”

***

“We have movement on our right!” Colonel Owens called over the com.

“On our left!” an HAV driver added.

“We see them!” Colonel Smithfield responded. “General? What are your orders? Push through or stand and fight?”

The General checked his own readings. “Push through! We aren’t stopping for anything!”

Orders began flowing over the com as the various HAV commanders prepped their crews and occupants for battle.

“Report! I want to know who has what coming at them?” the General ordered. He heard various mutterings, then the com went silent. “What’s going on? Report!”

“The movement is gone, sir,” a driver reported.

“I don’t have anything on my scope either,” Colonel Owens agreed. “Anybody else have a bad feeling about this?”

The com went silent once again as the convoy rolled on, all Techs and commanders watching the scans closely.

“Sir?” a Tech behind the General spoke up. “I don’t know what this means, but I am seeing a density anomaly in front of us.”

“Density anomaly? What the shit does that mean?” the General barked.

“The ground, sir,” the Tech responded. “It seems to be thinner about ten meters ahead, I think… Hard to tell, something is playing havoc with the sensors.”

“Did I stutter? Push through!” General Millman ordered once again.

“Your call, sir,” Owens responded. “It could be a trap, though. If so, the lead HAV–your HAV—will be first to find out.”

“Great, Owens,” Millman snarled. “That was really helpful.” He thought for a second, then turned to his driver. “Any alternate routes?”

“No, sir,” the driver answered. “I’ve been checking. We’re boxed in on both sides by sandstone. We have at least another two kilometers before we hit open ground again.”

“Where’s the thin spot, then?”

“Now only five meters ahead, sir,” the Tech answered.

“Sonofabitch,” Millman said as the ground under the General’s HAV began to crack and shatter, sending the massive vehicle plummeting into the darkness.

***

“Why are we stopping?” Billy asked, getting to his feet and moving to the front of the HAV. “We shouldn’t be stopping.”

Beth and Melissa stood also.

“Should we suit up?” Beth asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Melissa answered. The other Ghosts in the hold were already suited up and smirking at them. “Guess that answers that.”

Melissa reached below her seat and grabbed her suit. “I’m glad I have a new suit. That last one had a funk to it.”

“If we live, we’ll have to figure out how to make them auto-washable,” Beth laughed.

“If we live, I don’t want to wear another of these fuckers ever again!”

“I’m pretty sure the world will still be a dangerous place if we live. You’ll probably still need it.”

“Yeah, but if we live, I’m gonna find a nice quiet hole and move in. Fuck the world!”

“Right, but if we live—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake shut up about the ‘if we live’ shit!” Billy yelled as he came back from the front of the HAV. “If you don’t knock it off I’ll make sure neither of you live through the next minute!”

Melissa leaned in close to Beth and said in a mock whisper, “If we live, I am so gonna make him pay for that.”

“If we live, I’ll help,” Beth whispered back.

“I liked you two better when you hated each other,” Billy mumbled, grabbing his own suit and struggling to pull it on over his uniform.

Melissa and Beth stripped off their uniforms and stepped into their suits, both laughing at Billy.

“Um, Billy?” Beth began. He turned and saw they were pretty much naked again and he averted his eyes. “Billy, you have to strip down. The suits aren’t really designed to go over uniforms.”

Billy turned his back on the girls and dropped his uniform.

“Nice ass,” Beth mocked.

“OH, SHUT IT!” Billy yelled and everyone in the hold, including the other Ghosts, laughed hysterically, desperate for anything to break the tension. “Oh, yeah, so fucking funny. Laugh at Billy. Billy’s ass is funny…”

“So are you going to tell us what’s going on?” Melissa asked, trying to get her laughter under control.

Everyone’s coms crackled to an open channel. “This is Colonel Owens. General Millman’s HAV has fallen into what we believe is a sink hole or a trap set to lure us out into the open. Either way, we have a General to go get, so I need all Ghosts out of their HAVs and setting a perimeter. We are not fucking around here folks. We need to get the General and his crew out of that hole and get the fuck moving before whatever is behind us catches up. SO LET’S MOVE!”

All Ghosts made sure they were secured in their suits and both Melissa and Beth had to grin with pride as the suits adjusted perfectly to each Ghost’s individual body.

“Let’s go, gigglers!” Billy said, shoving the two girls forward as the HAV’s rear ramp slammed onto the ground. “Stay close to me. This could get crazy.”

“Stay close?” Melissa asked. “Why? So we can save your ass?”

“Exactly,” Billy said without a hint of irony.

Chapter Thirty-Two

General Millman couldn’t tell which way was up or down, his body was so contorted against the HAV’s control panel. “Sound off!” he yelled. Voices began to echo through the vehicle, as those that were able to respond did. “Anyone have com?”

“No, sir,” a Tech said as he extended his hand and helped the General. “The whole HAV is offline right now. Mag generator must have been damaged.”

The General braced himself and began to climb over the seats, making his way up through the HAV. “Are you injured?” he asked the Tech.

“No, sir. Just a couple bruises.”

“Good to hear. Start working on the drive and let’s see if we can get this thing out of here.”

“Roger,” the Tech said, yanking at a panel in the floor. “I should be able to get to the major components from here. If not I’ll have to get to it from the outside.”

“Understood,” the General said, checking personnel as he climbed past, seeing who was injured. “Make sure you have Ghosts with you when you exit. We don’t know what’s down here.”

***

Melissa, Beth, Billy and both Colonels stood at the edge of the hole as the rest of the Ghosts watched the perimeter.

Melissa looked at the landscape about her. “This is some serious brown. Where are we?”

“Mehkati region, I think,” Colonel Owens replied. “It’s all sandstone hills and scrub brush. Never was the most hospitable area, even before the Dead Zone.”

“What do you think is down there?” Billy asked, peering into the darkness. He kicked a small pebble over the side and they waited for a full minute before the sound made it back to them. “Oh, that’s one deep hole.”

“And we’re going down it,” Colonel Smithfield announced. “Okay, people! You know your assignments! Let’s get our folks back up here and on the move now!”

Everyone moved to their posts with the rescue team securing BC cables to the sides of the hole, as well as the HAVs for added support. Beth and Melissa began to do the same, but Colonel Owens held up his hand.

“Hold on,” Colonel Owens said, shaking his head. “You two are staying up here with me.”

“I can help down there,” Beth said. “You may need my abilities.”

“The only BC down there is our HAV and any of the Ghosts can manipulate that by touch,” Colonel Owens insisted. “I’d rather have you up here. If any Spiders made it through back there then they will be here soon. That’s when we’ll need you.”

“What about me?” Melissa asked.

“Pretty sure you two are a team, right?” Smithfield said apologetically. “Well, you’re the topside team.”

“Does Billy have to be on our team?” Melissa joked soliciting an instant frown from Smithfield.

“Understood, Colonel,” Billy said, ignoring Melissa. “Be careful.”

“Thanks, Brenton.” The Colonel nodded, as one the Ghosts descended into the darkness. “Keep it tight and keep it mean, people!”

***

“What are we looking at?” General Millman asked.

Lieutenant Mathers, a tall, slim woman of about forty, turned to the General and the look on her face was not the answer he wanted. “We have no idea, sir.” She shone her halogen about the area. The light reflected off multicolored, shiny-slick mounds and then was sucked into the darkness beyond.

“What’s that smell?” another Ghost asked. “Smells like…what?”

“That’s shit,” a short, stocky Ghost named Cross said. “And piss, and garbage and death. Smells like the refuse grounds before they vaporize all the trash.” A couple Ghosts looked his way. “What? We all didn’t have desk jobs in basic.”

“What it really smells like is a shitload of trouble,” General Millman said, flicking shiny goo from his hand after running it across one of the walls. “I want all personnel back in the HAV. Whatever made this cra- Ack!” The General cried out and grabbed his wrist. “What the hell?!?” The skin from his hand was sloughing right off, falling to the ground in blood red chunks. “FUCK!”

The Ghost closest to Millman reached for the General, but came up short as glistening liquid shot from the darkness and onto her face. She began to scream as her flesh melted away, leaving nothing but steaming bone.

“Oh, shit!” Cross yelled, pulling his sidearm and firing randomly into the darkness. “I’ve got the General!”

“Everyone back in the HAV!” Mathers ordered, now the ranking officer. She pulled her own sidearm and joined Cross, firing with one hand as she draped the General’s left arm over her shoulders. The height difference between the two made movement awkward. “Take this!” Mathers handed Cross her sidearm.

Cross turned and covered their backs, a pistol in each hand. “I don’t know if I’m even hitting anything!” Several liquid streams shot from the darkness right at Cross’s eyes and he dove to the side, rolling into one of the mounds. Instantly, any skin exposed began to burn and melt, and Cross’s screams filled the darkness. “Get this shit off me! Help!” The mound he landed on began to squirm. “What the fuck is this shit! HELP! Something’s crawling on me! SOMETHING’S ON---!”

***

“That’s not good,” Smithfield said to himself as the gunshots and screams echoed up the hole towards the rescue team.

“Sir? We have movement from all sides,” Captain Bonavita said, a holo scanner clenched in his hand. “And I mean all sides!”

The Colonel looked over at the holo and gasped. “They’re in the walls people!”

Ghosts on all sides of him began to shout, firing whatever weapons their suits formed, into the darkness. Choked off screams and cries for help reverberated everywhere and Smithfield tried not to panic.

He felt something splatter against his suit and he looked down to see shiny liquid streaming down his chest. “Full suits, now! Faceplates in place!”

Smithfield activated his com. “Owens! We are under attack from something down here! Liquid streams are coming from the fucking walls!”

“Liquid?” Owens responded. “What kind of liquid?”

“I don’t fucking know!” Smithfield shouted. He grunted when something heavy slammed into his back. Turning instinctively to shove it away, his breath caught in his throat as he watched a Ghost dissolve inside her suit, leaving nothing but a polished skull peering through the faceplate that hadn’t fully closed. The legs of the Ghost’s suit bulged as they filled with her liquefied remains. “Holy god…”

“Smithy?” Owens yelled. “What the fuck is happening down there?”

***

Several Ghosts looked to Owens as he continued yelling into the com.

“Fuck!” he shouted in frustration, finally turning from the hole, all eyes on him.

“Aren’t we going to help them?” Melissa asked, then remembered herself, adding, “Sir.”

“We’ll just get ourselves killed,” Owens said. “We can’t go down there until we know what we are up against. I want all Techs with scanners on this hole! I want all Ghosts with complimentary abilities assisting those Techs! If we don’t have the right gear, then fucking invent it!”

Personnel scrambled around the area, setting up equipment while the others spread out, filling the gaps in the perimeter.

Melissa began to step away from the hole, to see what she could do to help when she noticed the look on Beth’s face. “What is it?”

“Do you hear that?” Beth asked, her head cocked to the side. “It’s a rustling? You know, like leaves in the wind.”

Melissa concentrated, but she couldn’t hear anything over the chaos about her. She shook her head. “I don’t hear it. And there aren’t any trees around here for leaves to be rustling.”

“It’s getting louder. You really can’t hear that?” Beth insisted.

“I don’t hear… Oh, shit, what is that?”

Some of the other Ghosts began to notice the noise also.

“We’ve got incoming!” Captain Bristol shouted just as the rustling noise stopped.

“Where?”

“What’s happening?”

“Someone give me a reading!” Owens shouted.

“Sir, we had movement on the scanners, but then it stopped,” a Tech called out. “Once it stopped the readings cleared. Whatever it is, we can’t pick it up unless it’s moving!”

“Okay, people, time to put your skills to work!” Owens commanded. “Fuck the tech, I want eyes! If you see something, shoot the fuck out of it!”

The Ghosts tightened their formation, with the Techs breaking down their equipment and rushing back into the HAVs.

“HAV drivers, hold your fire unless you have a clear line of sight!” Owens ordered. “I want to keep my ass intact!”

Screams came from the rearmost HAV as one of the Techs struggled with his equipment on the ramp. Soon more screams were heard and one of the HAVs began to fire at random. Ghosts and personnel hit the ground.

“What the hell?” Owens roared, taking cover behind a large boulder. “I said to hold your fire!”

Beth reached out and grabbed Melissa’s arm, her fingers digging into the flesh, even through the suit.

“What?” Melissa cried, trying to pry Beth’s hand away. “What is—” She didn’t need to ask anything further as a large, black form slithered from around one of the HAVs. “Oh…my…god…”

Colonel Owens and several others saw the shape at the same time. “Fire!” Owens ordered, but most of the Ghosts had already started.

The black form reared up and spread its hood, revealing itself to be a cobra of some type, at least 12 meters long and a meter thick with a head two meters wide. Its body shuddered from the gunfire, but the snake was able to spit several streams of venom from its mouth before it succumbed to the attack. Ghosts dodged and ducked the venom. Several were splattered across their faceplates, the liquid sizzling slightly, but not corrosive enough to eat through the BC.

“More!” Melissa shouted as she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and spun to see two cobras approaching from their right.

“9 o’clock!” a Ghost screamed from the left. She tried to scramble away from the five cobras, hoods raised, coming at her, but she wasn’t fast enough and one struck, its two-foot fangs piercing through her suit, her abdomen and out her back. The snake shook its head to dislodge the body then struck again, wrapping its lower half around her, preparing to swallow the woman whole.

“Stop that thing!” Beth yelled, starting to run to help.

Melissa yanked her by her arm and pulled her back. “We need to get into an HAV!”

Melissa pulled Beth towards the closest HAV, sprinting up the ramp. Other Ghosts had the same idea and tried to follow, but their paths were blocked by several of the monstrous snakes.

“Shut the ramp!” a Ghost shouted, turning to fight, but found himself pinned to the hull as he was impaled by a set of fangs.

“Holy FUCK!” Billy yelled from behind the girls.

“Have you been hiding in here?” Melissa shouted. “You have! You fucking coward!”

“There’s giant mother fucking snakes out there!” Billy shouted back. “Who doesn’t hide from GIANT MOTHER FUCKING SNAKES?!?”

Beth concentrated on the HAVs ramp and got it to close and lock. “There, we should be okay for now!”

“What about everyone else?” Melissa asked, pushing past three Techs, making her way to the front.

“They need to fucking hide!” Billy yelled. “Those are giant fucking snakes!”

“We fucking heard you, Billy! Shut the fuck up!” Melissa snarled, as she looked out the windshield and slapped the HAV driver on the back. “Can’t you shoot them?”

“I can’t get a lock! They don’t track right!” the driver shouted back. “If I can’t lock on them I’ll risk hitting our people!”

Melissa grabbed the man’s head and forced him to take a hard look out the windshield. “What’s your name, Private?!?”

“Desmond McHale.”

“Well, Desmond McHale, our people are being swallowed whole! I think they’d rather get shot, don’t you?!?”

Desmond hesitated then activated his weapons system. “If I kill anyone it’s on your head!”

Beth pushed Melissa out of the way and pulled the driver from his seat. “Move! We’ll do this!”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Get in his seat!” Beth ordered. “Just start firing! I’ll make sure the bullets find their mark!”

Melissa did as told and pulled the trigger as she took over the driver’s seat, sending thousands of rounds of large caliber slugs flying from the HAV. Beth focused her attention on the oversized reptiles, sending the slugs directly at each of them. The results made Melissa gasp and stop firing. They all ducked their heads instinctively as bullets ricocheted everywhere.

“Did those just bounce of their skin?”

“Yes,” Beth whispered. “What are we gonna do?”

“You need to change the slugs to be giant fucking snake piercing slugs!” Billy shrieked.

“Fucking get a hold of yourself!” Melissa warned. “Or I’m gonna fucking toss you out there with them!” Billy shrank away from her, his eyes wide with panic. That was when she and Beth both got it. “You’re afraid of snakes, aren’t you?”

Billy nodded, still watching to see if Melissa was going to make good on her threat.

“Holy shit!” Melissa laughed. “You’ll gobble cock for scabs, but you can’t deal with snakes!”

“I hardly see how the two are related,” Billy stammered.

Beth watched the snakes attack and attack, whittling the number of Americans down with each strike. Then one of the cobras reared up, its massive forked tongue flicking out and in, out and in, its head moving from side to side, looking for the source of the smell it picked up. Other snakes stopped their attacks and did the same, no longer caring about their prey.

“Hey, Mel?” Beth whispered. “What are they doing?”

Melissa stopped glaring at Billy and looked out the windshield. “Fuck if I know. I’m no herpetologist.” Beth raised her eyebrows. “Mr. Lang’s biology class. I paid attention.”

The girls jumped back, startled, as several animals the size of very large dogs crested the sandstone hills and leapt at the cobras. The snakes lunged and struck, but the new creatures jumped aside easily and spun in the air, landing nimbly and clamping their jaws on the backs of the cobras’ necks.

Even through the HAV’s hull, the girls could hear several high-pitched whistles immediately followed by loud, deep chirps. Melissa leaned forward. “Are those…? No…”

“What?” Beth asked, amazed at the speed and agility of the animals as they tore apart the snakes that hadn’t retreated or escaped into the massive hole. “What are they?”

“Did you not pay attention at all?” Melissa mocked. “They’re mongooses!”

“Wouldn’t that be mongeese?” Billy asked, cringing at the look Melissa gave him. “Sorry. I’ll shut up.”

“How are they getting through the scales when our guns couldn’t?” Desmond asked.

“They have really fucking sharp teeth! How else do you think they’re doing it?” Melissa shouted, watching snake blood fly about as the Ghosts still left standing took the opportunity to make a break for the HAVs. Melissa grabbed the com. “Get the ramps open! We’ve got people coming for cover!”

Melissa and Beth watched as the mongooses dispatched the remaining cobras. The high-pitched whistles sounded again and were in turn answered by the deep chirping, but this time the girls could see that the chirps were coming from the animals themselves. They immediately settled down and began to tear apart the dead cobras, eating the flesh in large chunks.

From the tops of the hills, several cloaked figures descended onto the scene, each holding a long metal stave.

“Looks like we have company,” Beth said, indicating the figures. “Think they’re friendly?”

“Does anything around here look friendly?” Melissa responded.

***

Colonel Owens stood panting, his foot propped on a dead snake’s head, his arms covered by circular blades that dripped blood. Around him the mongooses began to circle and move in.

“I’ll fucking take you all!” he yelled at the animals. One ducked in and he swiped at it, barely missing the mongoose’s snout. “Come on! Try it!”

“They want to make sure the beast is dead,” a thick voice said from one of the cloaked figures. “They have to know for themselves. They will not hurt you.”

Owens looked at the approaching strangers. “They sure look like they will,” he stated, focusing on the blood smeared muzzles of the animals. He raised his arms and braced for an attack, but a whistle brought the animals to a stop and they all laid on the ground, heads alert and eyes focused only on the cobra corpse. “Nice trick.”

“As I had already stated,” the lead figure began, “they are not after you, only confirmation that the snake is dead.”

Owens retracted his blades, changing his suit’s composition so instead gun barrels extended from each forearm. “How about you stop right there also?” All figures halted. “Perfect. Now, care to tell me who the fuck you are and what the fuck these things are? They look like giant spitting cobras, but those shouldn’t be here.”

“They are a mutated version of the King Cobra,” the lead figure stated. “Their venom is corrosive, no longer containing any neurotoxin properties. They developed the mutation over the past several hundred years in order to fight the Aghori.”

“To fight the what?” Owens asked.

“You okay, sir?” Beth asked over the com. The Colonel nodded slightly. “Alright. Should we stay put?” The Colonel nodded again.

“The Aghori—demons sent from Kali to devour the living of all species,” the figure answered. “What was once man, now is not. The Aghori ravage our lands, killing without mercy. All that want to stay alive, whether snake or human being, has developed a way to fight the Aghori. It is the way of Nature.”

The figure removed his hood and Owens whistled in surprise. The mongooses perked up at the whistle, but didn’t move. “Is that your real skin?”

“Yes,” the man answered. “The human beings that survived the Agni-Hotra cleansing fires have changed as Nature dictates. We are now thick skinned so the Aghori cannot bite us and eat of our flesh.”

Owens stared at the thick, dark brown scales that covered the man’s neck and bald head. “Evolutionary armor. Interesting. And the dogs?”

“They are mongoose,” the man responded. “Not dogs. Dogs did not survive the Agni-Hotra. We have bred the mongoose to achieve such size. Each village must have a mongoose pack to keep the cobra and other threats away.”

Owens looked about. “Other threats?”

“Many creatures survived the Agni-Hotra and were changed by it. Most are not friendly. Some worse than the Aghori themselves.”

“Good to know,” Owens nodded. “Well, as much as I want to keep chatting….” He waved his hand in a circle above his head and the HAV ramps instantly opened. “…we still have people stuck in that fucking hole and need to get them out.”

The man looked at the hole then back at the others. All shook their heads. “Your people are dead. That is the main nest for the Cobra. None can survive down there, not even mongoose.”

“Well, I’d hate to take your word on that and be wrong,” the Colonel said, moving towards the hole. The cloaked figures started to shout and wave their arms at him. Several Ghosts ran and surrounded the Colonel, their weapons at the ready. “Whoa there! Sudden movement is no one’s friend. We’re going to drop a few sensors down that pit and see what we can find. If you wouldn’t mind calling your dogs back, that would be great.”

“They are not-!”

The Colonel waved the man off. “Mongoose. Whatever. Call them to you and hang over there please, Mr…?”

“My name is Jagadbandu and I strongly caution against disturbing the nest further. In fact, you all must leave quickly. The Cobra will not be held back for long and we are going back to our village, so we will not be here to rescue you again.” All the figures whistled and the mongooses responded instantly, springing to their feet and running past the men and up over the hills. “It would be wise for you to leave. You should not be here. This is not a place for the unprotected flesh.”

The Colonel raised his weapons and grinned. “We are hardly unprotected.”

Jagadbandu frowned as he surveyed the area and the carnage “Yes, I can see that. Well, then I wish you a good day and much luck.” He turned and walked away, but paused after only a few steps. “Although your ego may not allow this advice, I would hope you heed one more warning.”

“And that is…?”

“You need to be gone before the sun has set in this region. The Cobra is not the largest predator the Mehkati has. Nor the most deadly. This area will be overrun by Aghori when the last ray fades.”

Several Ghosts glanced at the Colonel, but he seemed unfazed. “Thank you, Jag. We’ll keep that in mind.”

Jagadbandu eyes took on a sorrowful look and without saying another word he raised his hood and followed the others.

“Did he say we need to high tail it before sundown?” Billy asked from the back of the pack of Ghosts. “That’s in less than two hours! Shouldn’t we be moving?”

“We aren’t leaving our people behind,” Owens growled.

“But, sir…”

“Shut it, Brenton!” Owens roared. “You can stay up here, but we are going down there. We can’t afford to lose anymore Americans! Anyone have a problem with that?” No one spoke up. “Good. Let’s go.”

Beth and Melissa moved to join the rest and Billy grabbed them both. “What the fuck do you think you two are doing?”

“We’re going to go help,” Beth said.

“No, you aren’t,” Billy insisted. “You are staying up here with me.” Before either girl could protest, Billy shouted, “Hey Colonel! I’m keeping the girls up here! They’re too young to be a part of this.”

“Sound idea for once, Brenton,” the Colonel answered offhand as he consulted with the Techs while they analyzed the sensor readings.

Billy smirked and Melissa punched him in the arm. “You suck, William.” She stomped back to the HAV.

Billy rubbed his arm, then cried out as Beth punched him in the other. “Hey!” he shouted after them. “I’m just trying to keep you safe!”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Lieutenant Mathers checked the General’s bandages and shook her head, knowing there really wasn’t anything she could do to help the man.

When the snakes had attacked she had been able to get the General inside and the HAV sealed up, but other than the two Ghosts and one Tech that had already been in the vehicle, no one else made it. “Still no com?”

“No,” a Tech said, not even bothering to check the system.

“Are you sure?” Mathers growled.

The Tech reached out and activated the com system. Nothing but static erupted from the speakers. “I’d love to leave too,” the Tech said.

“I’m still ranking officer here, Tunis!” Mathers shouted. “So watch the attitude!”

“Ranking officer of what? The fucking snake food?” Tunis snapped back. “If they were coming, they’d be here by now! You heard the screams and shots from above, right? Those aren’t sounds of a successful rescue, especially when no one fucking shows up to rescue us!”

Mathers jumped to her feet and closed the distance between herself and Tunis.

“Whoa!” A Ghost named Welch shoved between the two before they could get violent. “Same side folks,” he said calmly. “Just take some deep breaths and remember that.”

Tunis glared at Welch then struggled to climb further up in the HAV and put as much space between himself and the rest as possible.

“You all saw that!” Mathers snarled. “You are witnesses!”

“We have witnessed nothing but horror,” the other Ghost, a woman named Edington, answered. “Your little spat with Tunis doesn’t even register, so sit the fuck down, Mathers.”

The Lieutenant puffed up and got right in her face. “Don’t become part of the problem.”

Edington laughed and gently placed a hand against Mathers’s chest. “Back away slowly, LT. You may outrank me, but you know I can whip your ass in a heartbeat.”

Mathers glared, but didn’t argue. She angrily removed Edington’s hand from her chest and sat back down with the wounded General.

***

“Blades, people!” Owens ordered in a firm whisper over the com. “We know their skin can be pierced, so form your suits appropriately.”

Those Ghosts that hadn’t already done so did at once and all proceeded to rappel with caution, halogens trying to pierce the inky blackness of the snake nest.

“Movement to the left,” a Tech whispered, wedged between two Ghosts for safety.

All eyes shifted to the left.

“Movement on the right,” another whispered and all eyes shifted to the right.

Nothing.

“Gone,” the first Tech whispered. But the whisper turned to a scream as a three meter wide head shot from a hole in the pit wall and grabbed the two Ghosts and the Tech in its jaws, piercing all three clean through with its fangs. The snake jerked back and the three were yanked out of sight, their screams still filling the com.

“Free fall! Now!” Owens shouted and he loosened his grip on the BC cable and began to slide at a rapid speed. Other Ghosts did the same, adjusting their gloves on the fly to compensate for the heat that built up from the friction.

Snake heads all around shot from the sides of the pit. Two more Ghosts were pulled screaming into the pit’s side. Three Ghosts and a Tech were struck, but able to fight the snakes off.

“I see the HAV!” a Ghost shouted. “It’s on end, but looks sealed and intact!”

Those left, five Ghosts and two Techs, slammed down on the HAV and secured their lines to the vehicle, prepping them for an immediate extraction. Those that were bitten on the way down hung limply from their cables.

“Get that back hatch open!” Owens yelled, keeping his eyes trained above for more attacks. “Get the wounded inside right away!”

The hatch flew open and Lieutenant Mathers poked her head out. “Oh, thank God! The General is in bad shape! We need to get him out of here and up—”

She was interrupted as a cobra struck, grabbing a Ghost and pulling him off the HAV.

“IN! NOW!” Owens yelled, shoving Mathers out of the way so he could get everyone inside. The Colonel was the last in line and barely got the hatch shut before another strike. The sound of the snake’s head slamming into the HAV reverberated through the hold.

“Where’s the General?” Owens asked.

“Down here!” Edington shouted from below.

Owens carefully made his way down to the General and shook his head once he saw the state the man was in. “Is this everyone?”

“Yes, sir,” Mathers responded from above. “We’re all that were able to get inside. The rest were taken by those things.”

“Colonel Smithfield and his team didn’t make it down here?”

“They made it down here, sir,” Tunis said, looking at the others and activating a surveillance holo. The image showed Colonel Smithfield’s body plummeting from above and slamming into the HAV. Other bodies followed and all were swooped down on by snakes, snatched up and whisked away into the darkness. “They just didn’t make it alive.”

“Bad taste, Tunis,” Mathers scolded.

“Don’t start again, you two,” Welch warned.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Owens said. “We have cables attached to the HAV. Can we get any com signal out of here?”

“No, sir,” Tunis replied. “There’s something in the walls that’s blocking all signals.”

“Guess we have to open the hatch,” Owens sighed.

“But those things!” Mathers cried.

“Don’t worry,” Owens insisted, pulling a flare gun from his pack. “I just need to get one shot straight up. You folks cover me, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”

***

“There’s the signal!” Melissa cried, slapping Desmond on the back. “Move this thing and pull them up!”

“Who the fuck put you in charge?” Desmond snapped.

Melissa back handed him upside the head. “I did! Shut the fuck up and drive!”

Desmond grumbled, but couldn’t help a smile at Melissa’s assertiveness. He gave the signal for the other HAVs to reverse and pull back on the cables.

Billy stood behind the girls, staring at the dwindling sunlight on the horizon. “Man, we aren’t going to make it.”

“Hush,” Beth scolded. “We’ll make it.”

The HAVs geared down and struggled against the weight of the one below. Physics was not on their side. Suddenly a cable snapped, sending the HAV it was attached to speeding backwards into the HAV behind it, snapping that cable and sending it flying backwards also.

“Hold tight!” Desmond yelled and Melissa, Beth and the others braced themselves as their HAV struggled against the new weight. “This is going to put a hurt on the mag drive!”

“And…that…would…be…sunset!” Billy announced. “Anyone see anything?”

The last rays of light faded from the sky, and the landscape became nothing but dark shapes set against a black sky.

“How close is the HAV?” Beth asked quietly.

“Why are you whispering?” Melissa asked in a mock whisper.

“Because it’s fucking spooky out there,” Billy answered for her.

The driver rolled his eyes and checked his gauge. “Only about twenty meters to go before the HAV crests the side of the pit. Maybe five minutes.”

“What’s that?” Billy asked, pointing out the windshield.

“A lit up pit and then darkness,” Melissa asked, annoyed.

“Fuck off! Look past the pit. Do you see silhouettes on the hills?”

“I don’t see anything,” Beth answered, squinting her eyes. “It’s too dark.”

“How can none of you see that?” Billy shouted. “There is something moving up on that hill!”

“If I switch on all the halogens will you shut up?” Desmond asked.

“What’s your name again?”

“Desmond. Private Desmond McHale.”

“Yes, Desmond, turning on all the lights would be great,” Billy answered. “Thank you.”

Desmond tapped at the console and the HAV’s halogens lit up the landscape. Billy squeaked out a less than manly scream and Melissa, Beth and Desmond gasped.

“I really wish you had been wrong,” Melissa whispered.

On the far side of the pit, shapes moved. Large shapes. Shapes that didn’t seem to fit reason or any known animal. The shapes shrunk away from the light, but didn’t completely avoid it.

“What are they?” Beth whispered. “What the fuck are they?”

The creatures were twice the size of an elephant, some with long arms tipped with pinchers or claws, some with flailing tentacles that ended in more tentacles. Most looked as if they had been fighting, their rough skin was covered in open, oozing sores, many at least a meter across.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Billy choked, rushing back to the lavatory.

“The HAV is almost out of the pit,” Desmond said quietly.

The com crackled to life.

“This is Colonel Owens! Can you read me?”

“We read you, sir,” Desmond responded.

“Great! As soon as we are on solid ground we’ll need all available medics over here right away!”

“Sir? This is Beth. There’s a situation up here.”

“Situation? What? More snakes?”

“No, sir. Looks like the bigger predators that Jagadbandu warned about.”

“Are they attacking?”

None of the creatures moved closer, they just gathered at the far side of the pit, waiting.

“No, sir, they aren’t moving right now.”

The HAV’s end crested the pit’s edge and began to tip towards the ground. Instantly the creatures pounced, their speed surprising everyone, considering their size and that most of them seemed to lack legs.

“Sir! Colonel Owens?” Desmond shouted activating the HAV’s weapons system.

It was over in a blink of an eye. The creatures converged on the HAV, ripped its hull apart and yanked the screaming Americans out, jamming them into open mouths that were filled with rows and rows of teeth.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Owens screamed. “FIRE! DON”T WORRY ABOUT US! JUST FUCKING FI—”

The com went dead.

Melissa, Beth and Desmond, now joined by everyone in the HAV, watched in horror as all personnel from the rescued HAV were devoured. Their screams cut short by a million sharp teeth.

“What do we do now?” Desmond whispered.

“We keep the lights on and slowly back away?” Melissa suggested.

“Who’s the ranking officer now?” Beth asked.

“You are,” Desmond responded. “We lost everyone else. All that’s left are drivers and Techs. None are above Private” Desmond turned and looked at Beth and Melissa. “You’d be the closest thing to command rank we have.”

The two girls looked at each other and frowned.

“You make the call,” Melissa said.

“You sure?”

“You’ve got three people in your brain. I’m just one.”

“Whatever you decide, make it quick!” Desmond shouted as the creatures moved away from the destroyed HAV and turned their attention on the remaining vehicles.

“GO!” Beth yelled. “Tell everyone to back up and get out of here! If we get separated just meet at the original rendezvous point!”

Desmond reversed as fast as he could, while still trying to avoid hitting the HAVs behind him. “All vehicles are complying!”

“I bet they are!” Billy cried. “Can we shoot these things? Please?”

Melissa took control of the weapons system and targeted the creatures, firing as many rockets at once as she could. The HAVs in the rear did the same.

Streams of flame and smoke lit up the nightscape, but were lost upon impact.

“What happened?” Beth asked.

Melissa checked the readings. “Nothing. Nothing happened.”

Small explosions could be heard and the creatures lit up internally as the rockets detonated. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the creatures to collapse. But none did.

“Are they moving…faster?” Billy gulped. “They are, aren’t they?”

“I think those rockets just acted like fucking scabs for those things! They’re all jacked up and coming right at us!” Melissa yelled. “I’m out of rockets!”

“Fire all guns!” Beth ordered over the com. “Tear them apart!”

Large caliber rounds with tracers interspersed streamed towards the creatures, ripping into their undulating flesh. Chunks of black meat flew everywhere, tentacles fell to the ground and the night filled with unearthly shrieks.

“Looks like that is working!” Melissa cheered.

The rest of the Americans cheered with her until a Tech spoke up. “Are the pieces moving too?”

Everyone’s celebration was cut short as they watched as a tentacle began to drag itself along the ground, inch-worming its way quickly in pursuit of the reversing convoy.

“Turn this thing around and get us out of here!” Beth shouted.

Desmond spun the HAV about, tossing everyone into each other and against the sides of the hull. The vehicle rammed into a hillside and Desmond struggled to get it loose. “We’re stuck!”

“Their coming right at us!” a Tech screamed from the hold, his face pressed against a porthole. “Sweet God!”

Beth concentrated on the scattered BC of the General’s destroyed HAV, splitting it again and again until the air was filled with thousands of razor sharp shards. She brought the shards screaming towards their HAV, shredding everything in its path.

“I love that move,” Melissa grinned. The ground was covered in black chunks of creature and various oozing liquids. “Now let’s fucking go before all those little pieces become mini-monsters!”

The chunks began to squirm before Melissa had finished talking, but Desmond was able to free the HAV from its entanglement and they rocketed away, trying to catch up with the others.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Beth found a seat in the hold as far back as she could. Her head was killing her and she honestly wondered if she wasn’t going to throw up.

“You okay?” Billy asked, startling her.

Beth shook her head and smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine, just really tired.”

“And a bad liar. What’s really going on?”

Beth looked towards the front. “Promise you won’t say anything to Mel?”

“Tell me what’s going on first.”

“No. You have to promise you won’t tell Mel.”

Billy sighed. “Fine. I promise I won’t tell her outright, but I can’t make any guarantees if she threatens me.”

Beth grinned and leaned back against the hull. “Headache. Happens each time I manipulate BC.”

“Let me guess, they’re getting worse with every manipulation?”

Beth nodded. “This is a bad one. Kinda made me dizzy back there. Like I was gonna pass out.”

“Well, I’m not going to even pretend I understand how you do what you do.”

“I don’t think any one knows how I do what I do.”

“True. But, I’m willing to bet it strains your body, and your mind, past healthy levels. Probably like doing a ton of zip scabs without eating first. Spins you up then sends you crashing.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Beth laughed. Billy frowned. “That wasn’t a judgment. Sorry. I’m just so tired.”

Billy patted her on the leg and stood up. “Then rest. I’ll keep everyone away from you, if I can.”

“Thanks, Billy,” Beth yawned. “I appreciate it.”

“Well, you’ve saved my ass too many times in only a few days. I think running interference while you nap is the least I can do.”

***

“So how bad is she?” Melissa asked as Billy came back up front.

“She’s fine,” Billy lied.

“Bullshit. Don’t make me rip your nipples off and shove them in your eyes!” Melissa growled.

“Damn, Mel! Why does everything have to be so violent with you?”

“No decent male role models, I guess.”

“Fuck you, Mel,” Billy said and turned.

Before he could go, Melissa grabbed his arm. “I’m sorry, Billy. You don’t deserve that after everything we’ve been through the past few days.”

Billy looked at Desmond. “You heard that, right? She did say that?”

“Leave me out of it,” Desmond grunted.

“Don’t be a dick, Billy,” Melissa scolded. “I said what I said and I meant it. Don’t make me take it back.”

“Fine. Thank you, Mel. That means a lot.”

They were silent for a bit. “So, what’s wrong with Beth?” Melissa asked finally.

“I knew you were just buttering me up.”

Melissa didn’t push, just waited patiently.

“Fine,” Billy continued. “Her head hurts and it’s getting worse every time she works with BC.”

“That happens to some Ghosts though, right?”

“Sometimes. Not usually. We need to keep an eye on her. She’s not really like the rest of us. She’s…”

“A freak?” Beth asked from behind them both. Billy started to apologize, but Beth stopped him. “Don’t worry, Billy. I figured she’d get it out of you.” She leaned against Melissa’s seat. “I guess it’s like a migraine, but almost full body.”

“That sucks,” Melissa responded. “You gonna be okay?”

“For now, yes.”

“Good. Just rest. We’ll let you know if we run into anything else.”

Beth nodded and made her way back again.

Melissa and Billy shared a worried glance.

***

The Spiders crested the hill and stopped, surveying the wiggling mass of black flesh below them. They watched as hundreds of chunks moved towards each other, combining and reforming as they made contact. Soon several large creatures stood between the Spiders and their quarry.

The Spiders and the monsters waited, soundlessly. Then, without warning, they attacked. Metal slammed into dark, rubbery skin and the world exploded into chaos as the creatures roared and the Spiders activated their weapons.

Two Spiders were ripped apart, their BC legs snapped off and tossed aside, while tentacles pried their exoskeletons open to reveal the unfortunate pink bodies inside. The things that had once been human were plucked from their protective shells and torn in half, each monster taking a piece for itself.

The other Spiders took advantage of the creatures distracted eating and pressed their attack. Black flesh once again littered the ground and the Spiders only paused long enough to scan the area then moved on, their artificially fueled need to hunt driving them forward.

***

“How close now?” Melissa asked.

“Four hours away,” Desmond yawned. “Any signs of trouble?”

Melissa yawned in return as she checked the scanners. “Nothing I can see, but that doesn’t mean much. The wildlife seems to have a natural ability to avoid detection until they start to move.”

Desmond gave a noncommittal grunt in response and kept his eyes trained forward, watching the shadows outside the HAV’s halogens, looking for whatever would come at them next.

“Do you need someone to relieve you?” Melissa asked, yawning yet again. “I’m sure we have a Tech back there that can drive this thing.”

“I’ll be okay. This isn’t my first long haul,” Desmond grinned, pulling an injector from his breast pocket. “This will get me through the next twelve hours if I need it. But, it’s a bitch of a come down, so I’m trying to avoid it.”

“Okay, but I’m getting a Tech to watch the scanners,” Melissa said. “I can’t keep my eyes open anymore.”

“Good call. Get some rest.”

***

Billy stirred as Melissa settled next to him, Beth’s head resting in his lap.

“How is she?” Melissa whispered.

“She finally fell asleep an hour ago,” Billy whispered back. “She’s been dreaming the whole time.”

“How about you? Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Off and on,” Billy stifled a yawn. “I’m too freaked out to really get deep—” The HAV came to sudden halt, jarring everyone inside. “What the…”

“Um, I need some Ghosts up here now, please,” Desmond’s voice said over the com. “We have trouble.”

Beth stirred and sat up. “What now?”

***

Billy, Melissa and Beth stared out the windshield at yet another group of new creatures.

“Those must be the Aghori,” Beth stated.

“And a lot of them,” Billy added as they all watched what must have been fifty creatures or more stand in the path of the HAV.

“They just showed up,” Desmond said. “I looked down to check a reading and when I looked up they were there. No warning, nothing.”

“Have they moved?” Melissa asked.

“Not one bit.”

“What are the other HAVs saying? Do they have any Aghori around them?”

“None that they can see. We have eyes sweeping the area.”

“Can we get a closer look?” Beth asked.

“Really? Closer look?” Billy exclaimed.

“Through the holo, dumbass,” Melissa growled.

Billy mumbled something, but everyone ignored him as the holo came to life.

“Fuck me,” a Tech said. “Those things are messed up.”

The holo showed figures similar to the nanotech zombies, but warped and twisted into creatures that may have been human at one point and were now a jumble of overgrown jaws sporting massively long teeth; multiple arms and legs, many with long bone spurs piercing their green-black flesh. Their eyes bulged and bugged out, almost as if they could pop out of the skull and extend if they wanted to. Ears stuck straight out from their heads and turned independently like a cat’s, constantly checking the area for sound. The most disturbing parts were the fingers and toes—incredibly long claws, like a large cat, also protruded from each digit. From the end of each claw and from the teeth dripped yellowish fluid, thick like pus, that made the ground sizzle wherever it dropped.

Beth and Melissa looked at each other.

“What do you think, Desmond?” Beth asked. “Can we drive through them?”

“I don’t see why not,” Desmond responded.

“Can we shoot them first?” Billy asked. “Cut them down or torch them?’

“We can try,” Melissa answered, checking the weapons system. “We’re out of missiles and RPGs and low on flame. We still have a few thousand rounds for the guns, but those will be empty in minutes.”

“We can make more,” Billy suggested. They all looked at him. “Whatever materials we have that we don’t need we can morph into bullets. That should give us a few thousand more rounds.”

“Good call,” Desmond replied. “Ghosts should be on that. Techs up here on weapons.”

“Now who’s in charge?” Melissa grinned.

Desmond grinned back. “Oh, you are, but I’ll be doing everything possible to get our asses safely aboard an American ship.”

“Fair enough,” Melissa said, stepping to the back with Beth and Billy. “We’ll get on the ammo. You guys get on the killing.”

Desmond focused out the windshield. “I’ll get the other HAVs on board and then we’ll attack and push through. I’m looking forward to some beach time.”

“I’m looking forward to some no blood and/or guts time!” Billy hollered back.

“Just hurry on that ammo!” Desmond shouted.

***

The Aghori circled the vehicles, their deformed bodies crouched low, ready for an attack. Many sniffed at the HAVs, growing excited as the scent of warm, living flesh wafted from the vehicles’ ventilation systems.

One of the creatures licked the side of an HAV, tasting the splattered blood that had dried and crusted on the hull. Others followed suit and soon they were shoving and pushing, clawing and biting, each trying to get a taste. Dozens surrounded the vehicles, their fighting rocking the HAVs from side to side.

The jockeying for position soon turned to full-on aggression and several Aghori fell to the ground, their heads ripped open by others; their black, sticky brains trampled under foot and ground into the dirt.

An Aghori took a swipe at another, but missed, its claws raking the side of the HAV, making long, sizzling gouges.

***

Alarms blared and the Tech in the weapons seat turned to Desmond. “We have a hull breach! Those things can cut through BC!”

“How are we coming with the ammo?” Desmond shouted.

“We have about two thousand more rounds than before!” Melissa called back. “We might be able to get another thousand!”

“We can’t wait for that!” Desmond yelled. He nodded to the Tech. “Target and open fire.”

The large caliber guns started firing into the groups of Aghori. Their bodies jerking and dancing from the impacts.

“They don’t look so tough,” the Tech said then gulped as he saw the images on the holo. “Oh, fuck…”

“What?” Desmond asked.

“The slugs aren’t doing anything! Look! They get hit, but they are fine in a second.”

Desmond watched the holos, seeing what the tech saw. “Fuck. It looks like the BC is melting on contact. We can’t kill these things with bullets!”

***

The Aghori roared as one and leapt onto the HAVs. Their long claws dug deep furrows into the hulls and the corrosive liquid burned its way through the metal.

Bodies were sent flying as the techs in each HAV desperately tried to fight them off, but they wouldn’t stop, the bullets dissolving almost instantly as they came in contact with the caustic fluids that flowed through the Aghoris’ undead bodies.

***

The HAV rocked from side to side as the creatures attacked and Billy’s BC work began to suffer.

“Keep it together,” Beth said, seeing the panic in Billy’s eyes. “You’re a Ghost, you can handle this.”

“No, I can’t,” Billy replied. “There’re reasons I became a junkie and combat situations is one of them.” He looked down at his shaking hands. “I can’t do this.”

Melissa reached out and slapped him across the face, knocking his head back. “Suck it up, William!” she yelled. “Or I’ll fucking kill you myself.”

Billy shook his head and rubbed at his cheek. “I’ll try.”

“Fucking do!” Melissa snarled. “We don’t need try!” She turned her attention to the front. “Why aren’t we moving?!?”

“I’m trying!” Desmond shouted. “The drive is pumping out power, but we aren’t going anywhere!”

***

The Aghori slashed at the massive biochrome wheels of all the HAVs, dissolving them in seconds, reducing the vehicles to useless hunks of metal on impotent axles.

***

“We’re dead in the water,” Desmond muttered, trying to get the mag drive to override the axles and at least hover forward like most mag vehicles, but he met with no luck. The vehicle was too heavy and soon the drive redlined, nearly frying the whole system before Desmond shut it down.

“What’s going on?” Melissa said from behind Desmond. “Why’d we power down?”

The Tech brought up external holos and Melissa stared for a moment until Desmond pointed to where the wheels should have been.

“This isn’t the first time these things have come across HAVs,” he said. “They knew exactly where to hit us.”

The clawing sounds from atop the HAV grew louder and the Tech screamed as acid dripped from above and onto his leg.

“OH FUCK!” the man screamed as he watched a centimeter hole grow in size until it became fist sized and they all could see down to his bone. “Wash it off me! Help!”

Melissa started to reach for the man, but Desmond yanked her back as more acid dripped from above. The Tech screeched and pleaded until a large drop hit the top of his head, burned through his skull and dissolved his brain.

Desmond sprang from his seat and pushed Melissa to the back. “Can you make suits that fight that shit?”

Melissa looked past Desmond at the liquefied Tech. “Um, yeah, I think I can.”

“Then do it fast or we’re all going to be soup!”

Chapter Thirty-Five

The hull was breached from above on the furthest back HAV and the Aghori pounced on the occupants. Mutated arms and claws slashed and hacked at the Americans, ripping into their flesh, rending limbs and flaying skin.

Despite the ferocity of the Aghori, the Americans fought, guns ablaze, but the metal was useless against the acidic fluids that dripped from talons and teeth. Everywhere holes burned and spread: through seats, the hull, crates, arms, chests, legs, heads, weapons. Everything was melted into a pool of BC, flesh and bone.

When the last person stopped moving, their final screams silenced as their vocal chords melted, the Aghori roared as one and fed. They lowered their deformed heads to the ground and drank from the gooey ichor, not stopping until it was gone.

Those that didn’t get their fill turned away to pursue more victims. Those that did get their fill lurched and jerked as their bodies absorbed the BC that had been in pools of liquid. Their skin took on a metallic sheen, while their claws and teeth lengthened further, hardening until the edges became finely honed blades. None of them noticed their transformation, their animal brains focused only on killing and devouring, but they all took advantage of their increased skills, attacking with greater ferocity and cutting down all in their path.

***

“Help me get this on,” Desmond cried as Billy, Melissa and Beth finished fitting their suits. “We’re not all Ghosts!”

Melissa reached over and touched Desmond’s suit, the BC shrinking to fit, and activated his faceplate, sealing the man inside what they all hoped would be protection from the Aghori. Desmond winced as the suit connected to him.

“I’ve only done this for Ghosts, so I don’t know how well the suit will work for you,” Melissa warned. “I did try to tweak it so you can control it from your jack points just like a Shock suit.”

“I haven’t used a Shock suit since basic,” Desmond said. “I hope I don’t blow myself up.”

“If you do, try to take some of them with you,” Billy joked. No one laughed. “Geez, lighten up people. So what’s the plan?”

The sound of collapsing metal came from the front and they watched as pieces of the HAVs hull fell onto the driver’s seat.

“The plan is to get out of here,” Melissa said. “We need to get to another HAV and get moving.”

“Do we know how many people we have left?” Beth asked.

“The com is out,” Desmond said. “I’ve been trying, but I can’t raise anyone.”

“Does that mean they’re all dead?” Billy asked. “All of them?”

“It means the com is out,” Desmond scolded. “Don’t make more of what I say. It’s annoying.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Melissa laughed, but stopped short when more of the HAV began to dislodge. “Desmond, your suit has small guns built into the arms. Fire them just like a Shock suit. Everyone else can form them as needed. Let’s move out!”

Melissa kicked the ramp controls and the back began to descend. Aghori were waiting and several clambered at the ramp as it fell, climbing over the metal and into the HAV.

“Fuck!” Melissa screamed, opening fire on the creatures. The other three joined, the impact of their bullets knocking the creatures back outside. Melissa leapt at the controls and struggled to get the ramp back in place. Beth concentrated, overriding the mechanics and morphed the ramp closed, sealing it completely.

“Thanks,” Melissa said. “You okay?”

Beth nodded, but the exertion showed on her face. “I’ll be fine.”

“Now what?” Desmond asked.

Acid dripped from above onto Desmond’s face plate and they all froze, waiting to see if it would eat through Melissa’s design. The face plate sizzled, but soon the acid stopped and the suit’s integrity was kept intact.

“Great job!” Billy said. “Wish we could do that with the HAV!”

Beth sighed. “We can.”

“No, we can’t,” Melissa snapped. “You don’t have the energy to do this whole HAV.”

“I do,” Billy said. “I’m the vehicle expert.” He stepped to the wall and put his hand against it. “Just change a little and I’ll duplicate the process throughout!”

“Then what?” Desmond asked. “We’ll just be stuck here!”

“They go away at sunrise, right?” Billy asked. “We can wait that long.”

“We assume they do,” Desmond insisted. “What if they don’t?”

“Then we deal with them then!” Melissa shouted. “Shut the fuck up and get out of the way!” She shoved Desmond to the side and placed her hand on the HAV’s hull, her other hand firmly in Beth’s, transforming a meter square into the acid resistant material. “There! Do it now, Billy!”

Billy concentrated on the HAV’s design, focusing on every small detail of the hull, making sure he didn’t miss anything. The group could hear the Aghori’s claws tearing into the metal, then screeches of rage and anguish as they were cut off by Billy’s work. Behind them a fist punched through the main hatch, but was severed and fell to the floor as Billy completed the transformation. The grotesque claw opened and closed for several seconds before falling still in its own smoldering juices.

“Damn! That fucking stinks!” Melissa cried. “I can smell it through the suit!”

The group listened to the Aghori’s relentless attack. The sounds of rage grew and grew, the HAV shaking violently as the creatures pounded and assailed the vehicle. Parts of the hull buckled inward from the force of the attack, but the structure held.

“How long until sunrise?” Billy asked.

“Two hours,” Desmond responded.

“Okay, okay,” Billy muttered. “We can wait two hours.”

“Yes, Billy, we can wait two hours,” Melissa mocked. “Do you need a blankie?”

“Fuck off, Mel,” Billy grumbled.

***

The Spiders stopped at the crest of the hill, their sensors checking the area below. The scans puzzled them. They could tell from the collateral damage that people had been butchered, but there were no signs of corpses, only destroyed HAVs and dozens of unknown life forms that didn’t register in their databases. The Spiders instantly formed a plan of attack between them and moved off the hill, spreading out so they could ensnare as many creatures as possible.

***

Billy cocked his head to the side. “Do you hear that?”

“The sound of your cowardice? Yes, it’s deafening,” Melissa laughed.

“Funny, Mel. No, seriously, I hear something out there.”

“How can you hear anything through the hull and over the sound of those things?” Beth asked. “I can barely hear myself think.”

“Survival instinct, “Billy answered. “You live on the fringes like I have and you pay attention to every sound coming at you. It could mean death.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be hard to narrow the death sounds down out here,” Desmond said. “You sure you’re hearing something?”

“No, I’m not sure! That’s why I fucking asked you guys!” The noises from the Aghori stopped. “Um, did I do that?”

“I doubt it,” Melissa said. “Any chance we can get the holo up and running so we can see what’s going on out there?”

“Mag drive is shot,” Desmond answered. “We have no power.”

“I’ll make a hole,” Beth said, getting to her feet and turning a small part of the hull opaque. “I don’t know if it will hold against their devil juice.”

“Devil juice,” Melissa giggled. “I like that.”

The four squeezed together and nearly lost all hope at the sight they saw.

“That’s not good,” Billy said, turning from the impromptu porthole and leaning against the hull. “Out of the fire…”

***

The Aghori were confused. They could see the metal creatures and their mutated brains told them that they weren’t food, but there was a scent that drifted on the wind telling them different. The hunger for flesh kept them focused on the Spiders, even though they could not see the flesh.

The several dozen Aghori moved away from the HAVs, their many limbs scrambling over the hard, red earth. Corrosive saliva dripped from their grotesque mouths in massive, drooling globs, singeing the ground and leaving a smoking trail behind them as they slowly closed the distance between themselves and the Spiders.

***

“Okay, we can’t stay here,” Billy announced. “We have to take advantage of the distraction because once the Spiders win they’ll be on us.”

“Very astute, William,” Melissa sneered. “And how do you propose we escape? Walk out of here?”

Billy looked sheepishly at Beth. “I can fix this thing. But the problem is the devil juice corrupts the BC and I have to separate that out, which doesn’t leave enough to work with. I need more BC.”

“No way!” Melissa yelled. “She’s not strong enough!”

“I can do it,” Beth said quietly, obviously weakened from the exertion it took to make the porthole.

“No fucking way!” Melissa shouted. Desmond put a restraining hand on her shoulder and she shoved it away. “Fuck off!”

“It’s okay, Mel,” Beth assured. “If I can get us enough BC then we can get the hell out of here. I’ll rest while we run. When we’re on board the ships I can sleep as long as I need to.”

Melissa looked as if she would explode with rage. She turned from Billy to Desmond to Beth and back several times before finally throwing her hands up in disgust. “Fucking fine! Kill yourself!” she yelled at Beth. “Make all the lives that died to get you here mean nothing!”

“She’ll be fine, Mel,” Billy said. “I’ll pre-program the BC we have now so all it will need is the extra mass. I’ll make sure Beth only has to move the minimum.”

Melissa glared at them all.

***

The Spiders opened fire when the Aghori were only a few meters away. They did not expect the lack of results from the attack.

As one, they shifted tactics, turning flames on the creatures that were now rushing full speed towards them, scorching the green-black skin of the Aghori. The creatures screamed and writhed, but were only slowed down slightly, their undead bodies regenerating the crisped skin once they pushed past the flames.

The roars of the Aghori swelled and in a convergence of high-tech metal and putrid, reanimated flesh, the two groups slammed into each other.

***

“Just go slowly,” Billy soothed. “Can you feel the other HAVs?”

“Yes,” Beth answered, her eyes closed and brow furrowed. “But, there is so much damage it’s hard to separate the corrupted parts from the rest.”

Melissa began to protest, but Billy held up his hand.

“That’s fine. Just concentrate on melting the good parts,” Billy continued. “Liquefy the metal and bring it to us. Take your time.”

Desmond watched the battle rage outside the HAV. “Don’t take too long. I don’t know who is going to win, but this isn’t going to last forever.”

***

Three Aghori converged on a single Spider, dodged its slashing legs and leapt onto the machine’s back. Their claws and drool burned through the BC and they ripped into the heart of the creature, tearing a struggling pink form that was once a man from the safety of its shell. The cybernetically transformed human put up a feeble fight, but it was over in seconds as the Aghori dissolved its flesh and drank the liquid.

Several Spiders changed tactics, banding together into a tight knit circle, not letting the Aghori get the upper hand. They held the undead mutants at bay with a coordinated defense of fire and brute force, not trying to kill the creatures outright, instead flinging them as far away as possible.

But the Aghori were relentless. For every one that was tossed aside three more took their place, especially once they realized the scent was coming from inside the hard BC exoskeletons. Spider after Spider fell, their soft, fragile bodies ripped from the protection they had each known for so long, and devoured. Despite the drug induced, tortuous existence they led, all of them fought for their lives. There were brief struggles, but proved enough of a distraction to let the surviving Spiders adapt to the Aghoris’ physical defenses.

Mutated heads began to burst as the Spiders adjusted the composition of their ammunition, creating incendiary rounds that could destroy the monsters’ brains before the corrosive effects of their bodily fluids melted the slugs. Without their brains, the Aghori could no longer regenerate and were nothing more than bags of dead, rotted meat.

***

“The Spiders have adapted!” Desmond shouted. “This is going to be over soon!”

Perspiration beaded on Beth’s forehead and trickled down into her closed eyes. Melissa reached out and wiped the sweat away.

“How close are you?” Melissa asked.

“Close…,” Beth whispered. “It’s almost…here…” A shiver ran through Beth’s body and she struggled with consciousness. Her eyes flew open and Melissa could see the pain and pleading in them. “I’m…sorry…Mel…” Beth’s eyes fixed on Mel’s and glassed over.

“Beth?” Melissa shouted. “Beth? Freak? Wake up!” Melissa shook Beth’s still body then put her head against her chest. “She isn’t breathing!”

Desmond moved from the porthole and shoved Melissa out of the way. “I did a tour as a medic! Move!” Desmond began pumping Beth’s chest, counting out the compressions then listening to her chest for a heartbeat. “Come on!”

The sound of the rear ramp unsealing and descending got Melissa’s attention and she jumped to her feet. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Billy turned and his eyes were sad, but strong. “I can see the BC, Mel. You get Beth back and stay put. I’ll move it over and make sure this thing works again. I won’t be long.”

“You’re leaving me?” Melissa screamed.

“I won’t be long, Mel. I promise.”

They both knew that was a lie and Melissa struggled against the weakening in her knees. “I love you, Billy.”

“You too, kiddo,” he replied as the ramp raised into place. “Thank you…”

***

The sounds and smells of the battle made Billy gag. He wished he could cover his nose and mouth, but the faceplate prevented that. He focused on the stream of BC only a couple meters from the HAV, ignoring the screeches and cries. The smell of burning flesh and corroding metal wafted over him and he struggled to ignore that also, but his gorge rose in his throat and he prayed he wouldn’t puke all over the inside of his suit.

He reached for the BC and made contact, bringing the pool to life and sending it twisting in a shiny flow towards the HAV. Every second felt like an eternity and he kept his head down, watching only the BC.

Most of the metal had joined with the HAV before they found him. Billy could smell the fetid creatures coming at him and he whirled around just as one lashed out, swiping him across the chest. While the suit held against the talons, the force knocked him away from the BC and the metal froze in place, no longer flowing to the HAV.

***

Desmond leapt away from Beth’s body and rushed to a cargo crate, grabbing out a small mag generator.

“What are you doing?” Melissa yelled.

“Cut her suit open,” Desmond demanded. Melissa glared. “Just do it!”

Melissa growled and sliced Beth’s suit open, spreading the material wide as Desmond knelt down and placed two leads directly on her exposed chest. “Throw some BC on those to keep them in place and stand back!”

Melissa did as she was told and Desmond activated the generator, shutting it down almost as soon as he turned it on. Beth’s back arched, raising her off the floor then slammed back down. Desmond checked for a pulse and frowned. He activated the generator again and once more Beth’s body arched and fell. Still no pulse.

“Fuck!” Desmond cursed. “What am I missing?”

“Her body is different!” Melissa exclaimed. “She’s not like us!” She shoved Desmond to the side and placed a finger on each spot of BC. She closed her eyes and concentrated. “Mr. Lang’s biology class better not fail me now…”

Blood welled on Beth’s chest at the contact points and Melissa stepped back. “Try it now!”

“What did you do?” Desmond asked before flipping the switch.

“Shut the fuck up and shock her!” Melissa yelled.

Beth’s body arched and convulsed and the HAV filled with the smell of singed skin. Beth’s eyes shot open and she gasped for breath. Her hands found the BC contacts and she clawed at them. They shot from her body and Melissa and Desmond had to duck to keep from being hit by the wires.

Melissa rushed to Beth’s side and cradled her head, closing the open suit and covering her smoking chest. “Shhhhh,” she soothed. “Shhhh. Just relax. You’re back now.”

“It was black, Mel,” Beth sobbed. “There was nothing there. I just floated in the blackness and was almost gone.”

“I knew there wasn’t a Heaven,” Desmond muttered, but shut up quickly when Melissa shot him a look of death. “Sorry.”

“It’s going to be alright,” Melissa insisted, stroking Beth’s hair. “We’re gonna get you out of here.”

Beth tried to smile, but slipped into unconsciousness, her mouth turning into a frown instead.

***

Billy struggled against the Aghori that pounced on him, his arm reaching for the BC only centimeters away.

The Aghori became enraged that they couldn’t pierce Billy’s suit and slammed their fists and claws into him again and again.

Billy felt ribs crack and knew from the excruciating pain that more than one vital organ had burst. He tried his hardest to ignore the pain and focus on the BC. One of the creatures kicked him in the side of the head and his body shifted just enough so he could touch the BC. The metal began flowing again and Billy willed it away as fast as possible.

The creatures ignored the shiny stream that connected to the HAV; their attention focused only on Billy. They snatched him up and battered his body back and forth between them. Billy felt something snap and his legs went numb. He started to cough up blood and his faceplate was soon covered in a fine spray of red-black. The force of their attack was so fierce and constant that his body could no longer regenerate.

He tried to change his suit, to make some blades or weapons to fight the Aghori off, but he was too weak. Another snap and he went numb from the chest down.

“Fuck you…,” he whispered before his neck snapped and the life faded from his eyes, leaving nothing but burst capillaries and dilated pupils staring out at the monsters.

***

The HAV shuddered and Melissa held onto Beth as the metal about her began to change and morph.

“You should probably get in the driver’s seat!” she shouted at Desmond.

The man stalled for a moment then shook his head. “Right, right, we aren’t dead. Right.”

He stumbled and staggered his way to the front, stepping over holes that opened and closed at random as the fresh BC repaired the corroded areas. He shoved debris from his seat and tried activating the ignition, but the vehicle didn’t respond. “We’re still offline!” he shouted back.

“Give it time!” Melissa yelled back. “Billy will get it working!” Mentioning her uncle’s name brought a fresh wave of grief and Melissa hugged Beth closer to her. “He’ll get it working…”

The windshield repaired itself and Desmond tried to keep it together as he watched the violence unfolding before him. Spiders laid waste to the Aghori, while Aghori ripped open Spiders and feasted. Blood, guts, metal and acid flew everywhere and Desmond became dizzy trying to keep track of all the movement.

An alarm sounded and Desmond looked down to see systems quickly coming back online. He punched the ignition and the HAV’s mag drive kicked back to life. “We’re in business!”

He ran the fastest diagnostic checklist of his career and had the HAV ready for departure in seconds. He slammed the accelerator home then hit the brakes. “Fuck! I’m gonna need help!”

Melissa carefully set Beth’s head down on the floor of the HAV and rushed to the front, taking control of the weapons system. “I don’t have her secured back there so take it easy!”

Desmond glared at her. “Really?”

Melissa shrugged. “Do what you can. I’ll do the same since we only have the…ammo…that…” Tears welled in her eyes as she watched the weapon’s system indicate it was fully loaded. “Thank you, Billy…”

Melissa focused the targeting system at the group of Aghori covered Spiders that rushed the HAV. The windshield lit up with target confirmations and Melissa fired half the battery of missiles at the creatures of metal and flesh. The projectiles rocketed away from the HAV, impacting into the bodies, spreading their various parts across the landscape and splattering the windshield with gore as the HAV barreled through the debris.

“Fucking great shooting!” Desmond shouted, swerving the vehicle to the right to avoid a second group. Melissa painted those targets and sent the rest of the missiles at them before they could pursue.

“Scans show only seven Spiders left,” Melissa announced. “I can’t tell how many Aghori there are, but I don’t see movement.” She looked over at Desmond as the man concentrated on navigating them up over a hill and through a dry gully beyond. “I think we did it. Did we do it?”

Desmond was quiet for a few minutes and Melissa thought maybe he hadn’t heard her until he finally responded through gritted teeth, “I’m not answering that question until we’re out of this piece of shit and on a transport ship. Go check Beth then get back up here to keep me awake. We’re less than two hours away, but as soon as the adrenaline wears off I’m going to crash hard.”

“Don’t you have your injector?”

“You really think I kept up with that? It’s rolling around back there somewhere. If you find it I’ll use it so you can get some sleep. Otherwise you’re going to have to run your gums to keep me focused.”

Melissa smiled. “You may be the first person that is asking me to talk and not telling me to shut up.”

Desmond glanced over at her. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Pity,” he grinned.

“Pity for you since I don’t go for old men,” she laughed, getting up from the weapons console. She gripped his shoulder and leaned in, kissing his cheek quickly. “Who knows, though? In a couple years you may be my type. I’m fickle and my tastes do change.”

Desmond patted her hand and let her slip to the back.

***

Beth lay crumpled against a crate and Melissa rushed to her, relieved when she felt the warmth of her body. “Beth? Hey Freak? You in there?”

Beth stirred, but didn’t wake. Melissa pushed her hair from her face and dragged her over to the bench seats, grabbing the top part and pulling down a bunk. She struggled to get Beth up in the bunk, but finally got her settled, debating whether to strip her suit off, but deciding to repair it instead, incase they ran into more trouble.

Melissa curled up next to Beth on the bunk, promising herself she’d get up in just a minute and join Desmond.

She was soon fast asleep.

***

A jarring impact brought Melissa out of a violent dreamscape where she wasn’t sure if she was being pursued to be eaten or pursuing others to eat them. Once she had shaken the sleep from her head, she bolted upright, realizing they weren’t moving.

“DESMOND!” she screamed, running from the bunk to the front of the HAV.

Desmond lay slumped over the console, drool dribbling from his mouth and onto the controls. His snores nearly shook the vehicle.

Melissa sighed in relief that he was still alive, but that relief was quickly gone as she looked out the windshield.

“Desmond!” she shouted, shaking the driver harshly. “Desmond, wake up! We’ve crashed!”

The man stirred and smacked his lips. “Oh, fuck… My head feels like shit and my mouth tastes the same.” He blinked his eyes rapidly at the windshield. “What the fuck…?”

“Yeah, that looks like sand,” Melissa snapped. “You fell asleep and crashed us into fucking sand!”

“Hey! I warned you I’d need you to keep me awake!” He checked the systems and smiled. “Looks like I’ve only been asleep for about fifteen minutes. There’s no damage to the HAV, so we must have just coasted into a dune.”

“Dune?” Melissa asked. “As in beach?”

Desmond stared at her for a moment like she was an idiot then realization dawned on him about what his words actually meant. “Holy shit! Yes! The beach!”

He leapt from his seat and raced Melissa to the rear ramp. They both hit the controls at the same time and the ramp descended halfway, held up by another dune behind them.

The two scrambled over the ramp and onto the sand, grasping for purchase as their fatigued bodies soon tired from the exertion of climbing. When they finally reached the top they could see the HAV’s tire tracks stretching for a mile behind them then lost as the ground became hard dirt.

The sound of waves crashing and ocean birds calling made them both turn around and Melissa grabbed Desmond’s hand when they saw the ocean stretching off into the horizon.

They stood there gazing out into the bright blue and white of the ocean waves, hands grasped and fingers entwined, until Desmond was brought out of his reverie by the faint buzzing of a voice coming from the HAV below. He activated his com, connecting with the HAV’s communications system.

“Attention American HAV number HCL-951! Attention American HAV number HCL-951! Please respond with your security code immediately!”

“This is Private Desmond McHale and I haven’t a fucking clue what the security code is! I have Ghost Melissa Brenton with me and Vessel Elizabeth Laughlin. We are all that’s left of the American convoy.”

There was a pause and the com squawked fiercely in Desmond’s ear.

“Private McHale? This is Colonel Blue Masterson. Did you say you were all that’s left?”

“Yes, Colonel.”

“And you have the Vessel with you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you have a sample of the nanotech also?”

“We’re fine, Colonel. Thanks for asking.”

The Colonel chuckled. “Sorry, son. It’s been one shit fuck of a few days. I’m glad you three made it. Did you say you had a Brenton with you?”

“Yes, sir. Melissa.” Desmond squeezed Melissa’s hand and she watched his face, trying to gauge the conversation from his reactions since she didn’t have her com with her.

“Do you know what happened to her aunt, Heather Walton?”

“Yes, sir. She died in combat. Helped save our butts so we could get out of Tibet.”

“What about the package she was carrying?”

“The nanotech? We have a sample on board, sir. There’s also some developments with that tech you’ll want to see.”

“Developments? Last time someone told me there were developments I was slapped with a paternity suit. Wasn’t mine, but sure did give me a scare.”

Desmond remained silent, unsure how to respond.

“Listen, Private. My nav Tech tells me we have a lock on your location. We’ll be there in thirty minutes. You just hold tight, understand?”

“Understood, sir. Thank you, sir, we look forward to getting right the fuck out of here.”

“Copy that, Private. See you in thirty.”

The com went dead and Desmond turned to Melissa, a huge grin spreading across his face. “Damn, I wish I wasn’t six years your senior. I’d give you the best kiss in the world.”

“Are they coming?”

“They’ll be here in thirty minutes.”

Melissa jumped up and hugged Desmond around the neck, kissing his face. Their lips brushed against each other and she playfully pushed him away. “I outrank you anyway.” She laughed. “You need to be at least an officer for anything to work.”

He squeezed her hand once more and let it fall away. “We’ll see what happens. I’m due for a promotion after this hell.”

“Too true,” Melissa laughed, slip-sliding her way back down the dune to the HAV. “Let’s pack up what we can and get Beth ready.”

“Yes, sir,” Desmond winked, following the Ghost down the sand and into the back of the HAV.

***

When the amphibious personnel carrier finally came ashore, Desmond had to restrain Melissa as the medics carried Beth away.

“But she’s my freak and I’m staying with her!” Melissa screeched, fatigue and shock finally taking over. “I’ll fucking gut them all if they hurt her!”

“Melissa!” Desmond shouted. “Get a hold of yourself! They’re American medics! They’re not going to harm her!”

“Well, I can see you’re related to Heather,” Colonel Masterson said, stomping through the sand toward them, his hand extended. Desmond gave a quick salute, but Blue waved it away. “Shake my hand, son. There’s too few of us left to stand on ceremony.”

Desmond gripped the Colonel’s hand. “Thank you, sir. It’s been quite a ride.”

Blue turned to Melissa. “Sorry about your aunt, she was a fine Ghost and amazing woman.”

“Yes, she was,” Melissa replied. “I lost my uncle, Billy Brenton, too.”

“He saved our asses,” Desmond added. “He went above and beyond.”

“Billy? Doesn’t sound like him, but I guess these days really put everyone to the test.” The Colonel saw the look of disdain on Melissa’s face and held his hands up. “I’ll make sure he is remembered with everyone else and his record reflects him in a, well, more positive light than it has.”

“Thank you, Colonel,” Melissa said, taking a deep breath and hanging on to Desmond.

“Well, let’s get you two aboard,” the Colonel ordered. “We have sixteen ragtag ships out there that are ready to get to Australia. I’d be lying if I said we don’t expect trouble along the way, but we’re Americans and trouble seems to be our business.”

“That it is, sir,” Desmond replied as they trudged to the APC and boarded the craft. The back hatch closed and sealed and the vehicle powered back into the surf, heading for the fleet where the future of the Americans would be decided, for good or bad, by a handful of refugees, Techs, troopers and Ghosts.

Epilogue

The Three stood on the roof of the Beijing high rise and lifted their glasses.

“To us!” Mr. Plain toasted. “And to profit!”

“Profit beyond imagination!” Mr. Continental added.

“Not bad for a month’s work! Cheers!” Mr. Brown Eyes finished for them.

They clinked their glasses and each sipped, their eyes locked on the still smoldering city below them. Their Shock troops had long since defeated the Chinese forces and were now putting the city back together, but it was a slow process.

“From here we can keep Europe and still move across the Pacific and take the Americas,” Mr. Brown Eyes said after finishing his drink.

“Is that still the plan?” Mr. Continental asked.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Mr. Plain inquired. “There are resources there that haven’t been tapped in centuries.”

“Brazil and Mexico will not be pleased,” Mr. Continental said. “I don’t want us to spread ourselves too thin.”

“Hard to be spread thin with our recruiting tech,” Mr. Plain grinned.

“Very true, Mr. Plain,” Mr. Continental conceded. “Just being cautious.”

“And we appreciate you for that,” Mr. Brown Eyes smiled, filling each of their glasses once more. “But, with the American forces on the run for the time being, I don’t think Mexico and Brazil will be issues.”

They raised their glasses once again.

***

Desmond wrapped his arms around Melissa as they stood on the deck of the command ship AFS Silverthorn and looked at the massive Wall of Australia that loomed on the horizon.

“That’s something you don’t see everyday,” Melissa said. “Could have used a wall like that to hide behind while we were getting our asses handed to us out here this past month.”

“I think we did pretty well against the Three’s ships considering,” Desmond said. “They turned tail finally, at least.”

“Not without a lot of American casualties, though. Lives we couldn’t afford to lose.”

“Only one I care about is right here,” Desmond said, nuzzling his face against Melissa’s neck. “It’s all that matters these days.”

“Hey! Stop it!” Melissa protested. “Your eye patch scratches.”

Desmond rubbed harder, squeezing his arms so she couldn’t get away. “Oh, I’m so sorry my affliction irritates you.” He spun her about and planted a quick kiss on her lips then spun her back. Melissa laughed heartily and elbowed him softly in the ribs.

“I guess I can forgive you since you’re such the naval hero now, Lieutenant McHale,” she said. “You’ll be getting your ocular jack port in place soon, so I guess I should enjoy the patch while we can still play pirate and wench.”

“Can I be the pirate next time?” Desmond asked. “That wench outfit rides up.”

“You wish,” she giggled.

“There you two are,” Beth said as she stepped onto the deck.

“Hey, you shouldn’t be up here!” Melissa scolded.

“I can’t stay below forever,” Beth complained. “It smells down there.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Desmond laughed.

“They done running tests?” Melissa asked.

Beth laughed. “Hardly. Blue has me doing memory drills this week. Wants to see if I have any residuals from the Capreze persona. Anything to give us a leg up when we finally get to North America.”

Desmond suddenly pointed out at the wall. “Here they come!”

“Hope the Aussies are friendly,” Melissa said. “I don’t think we have much fight left in us after these past few weeks.”

“Speak for yourself,” Desmond said, puffing his chest out. “Ole One Eye Des is always ready for battle!”

“You are so lame!” Melissa laughed. “Please don’t ever do that again.”

The attention signal blared over the loudspeakers. “All hands to stations! All hands to stations!”

“Guess we need to get below,” Desmond said, taking Melissa by the hand and offering his elbow to Beth. She took it and smiled.

***

“How many ships are we looking at, Wells?” Colonel Masterson asked.

“Ten, sir,” Ensign Wells answered. “All battleships.”

“Armed?”

“Fully and active.”

“Guess they don’t quite trust us…” Blue mused. “Can’t blame them. Are they answering hails?”

“Yes, sir,” Wells responded. “We’re to hold present position while they approach.”

“Easy enough. Any other chatter on the wire?”

“No, sir. Their ships are staying quiet.” The Ensign cocked his head slightly. “Scratch that, sir. I am picking up a faint signal. Not sure it’s coming from the Australians.”

“Dial it in and put it on speaker,” Blue ordered. Wells did as he was told and a faint voice could be heard coming from the bridge’s com speakers. “Can you clean that up?”

Wells worked for a short time and the signal became noticeably clearer.

“Is that…?” Wells asked aloud.

“That’s singing,” Blue answered as the entire bridge crew puzzled at the song. “Nothing I’ve heard before. Hail them and let’s see if we can get a response.”

“Attention, this is the AFS Silverthorn. Please identify yourself.” The singing suddenly stopped. “Again, this is the AFS Silverthorn. Please identify yourself immediately.”

“Um…hello?” the voice asked. “Who is that? Matty? Are you fucking with me again?”

“This is Colonel Blue Masterson, commanding officer of the American Forces Fleet. Identify yourself immediately!”

“You do realize I have complete control over all the stronghold’s systems, right? Keep it up and I’ll shoot your ass, Jespers!”

Blue furrowed his brow. “Who the fuck is Jespers?” he asked, but Wells and the others only shrugged. “Again, this is Colonel Blue Masterson. Please identify yourself!”

“Well, this is Brigadier General Jethro Gofuckyourself! Blue? Really, Matty, you couldn’t come up with a better name than that?”

“Son, I don’t know who the fuck you are, but you better start talking straight or you’re going to get one giant hunk of BC up your ass!” Blue roared.

“BC in the ass? What the fuck does that even mean? Have you been into Jay’s shine again?”

“Sir, the Australians are hailing us,” Wells interrupted.

“Tell them to hold on,” Blue snapped turning his attention back to the voice. “Did you here me? You are going to tell me who you are right now, or I swear to God I will hunt your smart ass down and kick it all over the globe!”

The line was silent for a moment. “This isn’t Matty, is it?”

“I don’t know who the holy fuck Matty is! Now tell me who you are or get me someone else to speak to that isn’t mentally impaired!”

“Um, right…please hold.” The signal filled with soft music and Blue nearly put his fist through the communications console.

“Get me a lock on that signal now! The second we get done with the Australians I want this mother fucker found!”

“Hello? This is Commander James Capreze of the Mech Stronghold. Who am I speaking to?”

Realization dawned on Blue instantly. “Capreze? James Capreze?”

“Did I fucking stutter? Who the hell is this and how did you get on this secure channel?”

“As I told the imbecile before you, Commander, this is Colonel Blue Masterson, commanding officer of the American Forces Fleet. It’s good to hear your voice, Capreze. I’ve been hoping for this moment for a long time.”

“That makes one of us, Colonel,” Capreze answered. “If you are a Colonel, which I highly doubt since there is no such thing as the American Forces Fleet.”

“Sir,” Wells interrupted. “The Australians?”

“Tell them to hold on,” Blue growled. “Send our authentication codes to Capreze right now.”

Wells shook his head, but did as instructed. “Done, sir.”

“Commander? We just sent you authentication codes. This should trigger all the information you need to verify I am telling you the truth.”

“He’s right, Commander,” Jethro’s voice agreed. “The codes just unlocked a data stream and…oh my god…”

There was silence for a long while.

“Hello? Commander?” Blue asked finally.

“Yeah, I’m here,” Capreze’s voice answered, struggling to keep control. “Am I reading this right, Colonel? The world isn’t dead?”

“Far from it, Commander,” Blue laughed. “We’re here. Although our numbers are a lot fewer than we’d like. We’re down to ten ships from our original sixteen.”

“I’m sorry…did you say ships? As in on the ocean?”

“That’s where we like to put ‘em, Commander.”

“Sir! The Australians are insisting you speak with them now!” Wells insisted again.

“Listen, Commander. I have some business to attend to, but I want your man… Jethro was it?”

“Yes, Colonel. Jethro.”

“Well, can Jethro stay on the line with Wells while I help solidify the American’s place in the world?”

“You can have Jethro for all I care,” Capreze laughed.

“Hey!” Jethro protested. “What the fuck did I do?”

“Um, that’s great, Commander. I’ll be back with you within the hour.”

“I look forward to it ,Colonel.”

“Call me Blue.”

“I’m James.”

“It’s great to finally meet you, James. Hold tight.” Blue looked at the expectant faces of the bridge crew and grinned. “Looks like we’re that much closer, people!”

The crew cheered.

“Alright Wells, I’m ready. Open the channel to the Australians. Let’s get things rolling. We’ve wasted four hundred years already. Time for the Americans to go home!”

The story from this and DEAD MECH will continue in Metal And Ash- Apex Trilogy, Book Three!

Be on the lookout for it in Fall 2012!

Free Excerpt of Chapter One, Part One of DEAD MECH:

Chapter One

Part One- Introduction & Tragedy

The traffic was awful. Jimmy hadn’t moved more than a mile in the past hour, surrounded by cars honking, their electric motors purring in the hot summer evening.

His com phone buzzed and he casually answered it.

“Hey Sweetheart! What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Michelle’s voice was frantic.

“Stuck in traffic baby. It’s Friday night rush hour. What’s wrong? Rachel okay?”

“Yes, but you need to get home.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just talked to my dad. He said we need to get out of the city right away.”

Capreze woke with a start; thankful the nightmare didn’t proceed any further.

***

The two mechs stood on the ridge looming over the valley below.

“You sure you picked up something?” Bisby asked over his com.

“Positive,” Stanislaw responded, double checking his scanners. Nothing.

“Hmmm, guess we have to go down into that bake oven of a dust bowl and check it all out,” Bisby grumbled. “You sure?”

“Yes, Biz, I’m sure,” Stanislaw snapped back. “I don’t know why you’re bitching, this is why we’re here.”

“Yeah, but the Rookie comes in today. I don’t want to miss the fun.”

“You didn’t think being a Rookie was much fun.”

“Shit rolls down hill.”

***

Chief Mechanic Jay Rind stood and stretched, his back cracking and popping into line.

“Ahhhhh, that’s the shit,” Jay yawned, turning to survey the mech hangar. He glanced at his watch. 0600. “Damn, did it again.”

Jethro laughed, walking into the hangar holding two cups of coffee. “You fall asleep in here last night?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Jay replied, cracking his neck and taking the offered coffee mug. He nodded his thanks to Jethro and turned back to his workbench and the schematics lain upon it. Jethro sidled up next to him.

“That’s some ballsy shit.”

“Don’t I know,” agreed Jay.

***

“Where you want me Stan?” Bisby asked, watching Stanislaw’s mech stomp down into the barren valley.

“Stay put. Keep scanners at full and watch for the ambush.”

“Listen, I know you’re the best and all, but I don’t think anything is in this valley. We’re wasting our time.”

“Never assume, Biz. That’s how I stayed alive this long and following that advice will keep you alive just as long.” Stanislaw’s scanners beeped. He checked the readings. “I just shot you my scan. You seeing that Biz?”

“Yeah…looks like some crevice off to your left. Hard to see from up here.”

***

Mathew walked into the barracks, towel around his waist. The noises from Masters’ bunk made him stop.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake you two!” Mathew said, tired of walking in on Masters and Harlow going at it.

“Just…keep…walking…pilot,” Harlow muttered between grunts.

Mathew swore under his breath, walked quickly to his bunk and grabbed his uniform. He turned and huffed to the barracks door, trying to ignore the lump of sweaty flesh that made up Masters and Harlow.

“Briefing in fifty, kids,” he called back, walking into the hallway. “Don’t be too late.”

“OH GOD,” was all he heard in response.

***

“Whatcha see Stan?”

“Not sure. This is more than a crevice. It’s a fuckin’ rift in the Earth’s mantle. Jeezus.”

Stanislaw set scanners to full spectrum. What looked like a thin opening to a crack in the valley floor, quickly opened up below into a massive cavern. A cavern able to hold any number of dead mechs. Stanislaw backed away, powering up his weapons.

“Hey Biz?”

“Yeah, Stan?”

“I’m not sure what I’m looking at here, but I think we may need back up.” Stanislaw shot the data over to Bisby.

“Shit! That cavern’s huge. Who knows what’s down there…”

***

Capreze stood in the middle of the tracks, cup of coffee in hand. He watched the dawn sun lift over the far off mountains.

“Mornin’ Papa Bear.”

Capreze looked up at the mech to his left. The cockpit was wide open, Rachel’s legs dangling over the edge. He lifted his cup in salute.

“Mornin’ Baby Girl. You make this joe?”

“Yep.”

Capreze took a sip of his coffee and sighed. “You have the gift.”

They stayed silent, each sipping from their mugs.

Rachel looked to the distance, down the tracks.

“Rookie’ll be here soon.”

“Yep. Hope he’s worth a shit.”

***

“Coming to you, Stan.”

“Stay up there. No point in both of us getting ambushed.”

“Fuck that! How about you drop a couple plasma charges down there and just frag it all.”

“What if it isn’t hostile?”

“We’re in the fucking wasteland! Everything is hostile!”

Stanislaw pondered this for a moment, but just for a moment. Proximity alarms blared in his cockpit, interrupting his deliberations.

“Stan?!? What is it?!?”

Stanislaw checked his scanners. He pinged a shape, large and moving. Moving fast.

“Not sure, hard to get a reading through this rock.”

He aimed his plasma cannons at the opening.

***

Dr. Hecate Themopolous sat in her windowless office, head in her hands. She stared at the piece of paper laid out upon her desk. Tears welled in her eyes.

She sniffed and wiped at her nose, grabbing up the paper and ripping it to shreds. She tossed the bits and pieces into the trash, subconsciously wiping her hands on her uniform as if the message on the paper had somehow dirtied her physically.

Her door chime rang. She stared at the shreds lying at the bottom of her wire trashcan. The door chimed again. She quickly wiped her eyes.

“Enter.”

***

The dead mech burst from the crevice, exploding chunks of rock in its wake. It quickly gained its footing on the valley floor, its one arm raised and glowing ready for battle.

“Jeezus…” Stanislaw whispered.

“Stan!” Bisby shouted into his com, powering up his own weapons, dropping his mech down into the valley. “I’m coming down! Push it to the left, I’ll flank it.”

Stanislaw stared at the dead mech, watching its zombie pilot thrash and howl in its cockpit.

“Biz, something’s not right…”

“No fucking shit Stan! It’s a deader with one arm, that’s the definition of ‘not right’!”

***

Masters tried handing Harlow the soap. She fumbled around, blinded by suds. Masters laughed, gripped her hand with his and carefully placed the slippery bar into her open palm.

“Thanks baby,” she smiled, still blind.

“No problem your Hotness.” He turned back to the water, letting the warm spray beat down on his chest. “You think Mathew was pissed?”

“Who fucking cares,” said Harlow, washing the soap from her face. “They’re all just jealous cause they ain’t got their own fuck buddy.”

“That all we are?”

Harlow stepped from her stream into Masters’. “No, baby, that’s not all we are.”

***

Stanislaw piloted his mech into a crouch, setting up the leap and slash move. He waited for his opponent to take the bait.

It didn’t.

One Arm waited, watching Stanislaw, calculating the possible attacks. Coming to a conclusion, One Arm aimed its plasma cannon.

Stanislaw’s eyes went wide; he’d never seen a dead mech react this way. His com crackled.

“Get the fuck out of there Stan! He’s too close for you to dodge those blasts!” Bisby screamed into his ear. “I’m too far away to take him out!”

Stanislaw knew all of this. And what his fate would be.

***

Capreze stepped next to Jay and appraised the schematics.

“You think this will work?” the Commander asked his Chief Mechanic.

“No, but I plan on putting hundreds of man-hours into it anyway,” Jay sniped, never making eye contact with the Commander.

Capreze grinned and slapped Jay on the back. “That’s the spirit! You need anything?”

Still not looking away from the schematics, Jay handed Capreze an empty coffee mug. “She makes it every morning and yet I’m always surprised what your girl can do with some ground beans and water.”

Capreze laughed, took the mug and headed to the mess.

***

The blasts came hard and fast. Stanislaw dodged the first wave, but couldn’t side step his mech fast enough to miss the second wave. The concussion knocked his mech back 300 yards.

Stanislaw struggled to right his mech.

“Hydraulics on my left leg are out!”

“I’m coming Stan. Hold the fuck on!”

One Arm moved in, firing twice at Stanislaw, then whirled around, sending several blasts towards Bisby.

Bisby was far enough away to evade the shots, but it slowed him down, wasting precious time needed to get to Stanislaw.

“Stan! Stan?!? Jeezus fuck, can you hear me?!?” Bisby screamed.

***

“Goddamit Jethro! What did I say about coffee mugs ON the schematics?!?” Jay barked at his assistant mechanic. “What did I fucking say?!?”

“Don’t do it?” Jethro responded sheepishly, grabbing up his mug, leaving a coffee ring behind on the plans.

Jay smacked him upside the head. “Go double check Harlow’s left hydraulics system, I think I heard a hiss when she docked last night.”

“I already checked it,” Jethro answered.

“Then go wash the fucking thing!” Jay roared.

“Wash a mech? Really?” Jethro asked. Jay’s face turned beet red. “Okay, okay. Jeezus, calm down.” Jethro stomped away, muttering epithets.

***

One Arm blasted Stanislaw’s mech twice more, sending mechanized limbs flying in all directions. The live mech’s torso lay smoldering on the baked earth. One Arm turned its attention on Bisby.

Seeing the state of Stanislaw’s mech and the dead mech’s new tactics, Bisby stopped his mech and set blast anchors into the ground. He prepped the machine for full rocket launch, intending on sending the one armed abomination to hell in a million tiny pieces.

One Arm roared and charged. Bisby’s blood ran cold at the inhuman sound coming from the dead mech’s loudspeakers.

“What the fuck….?” Bisby croaked.

***

“Hey Matty! Come sit here!” June called as Mathew finished loading his plate from the mess line.

Mathew glanced around, but the mess hall was empty and he was trapped. He slowly made his way to June’s table.

“Mornin’,” he nodded, fake smile in place.

“Wow, did you hear Harlow last night?” June asked conspiratorially. “She and Masters were non-stop.”

Mathew laughed. “This morning too.”

June’s eyes widened. “Wow. Must be nice having someone all to yourself like that…”

Mathew kept his eyes down, preferring to look at the pile of yellowish synth-eggs, than to look into June’s inquiring eyes.

***

Bisby checked the anchors and set his mech into a squat, bringing its body to a lower center of gravity. He watched the dead mech rage towards him and braced for impact.

Twenty yards out, One Arm leapt, using its mini-rocket boosters on its legs for extra lift. It raised its arm high into the air.

Bisby, realizing what the dead mech was about to do, disengaged his ground anchors, hoping he could side step the falling mech in time.

Everything slowed. One Arm roaring, Bisby scrambling, Stanislaw dying. It all froze for a split second in the barren valley.

***

“Man, I never get over how good this coffee is!” Masters crowed. “I mean, how do you grow something this tasty in the fucking wasteland?”

He plopped down next to Mathew and Jane, smelling of soap and smiling from ear to ear.

“Hey Baby? Grab me a muffin, will ya?” he called over his shoulder to Harlow, still in the mess line.

“Will do Sugar Dick!” she called back.

Mathew shook his head, but couldn’t help smiling. Masters raised his eyebrows in mock innocence.

“What?” Masters took a sip of coffee. “Can’t two bad ass mother fuckers be in love?”

***

Bisby didn’t make it out of the way. The impact of mech on mech was earth shattering. Literally.

One Arm came down just as Bisby had disengaged his last ground anchor and tried to execute a tight side roll. The dead mech smashed into Bisby’s cockpit; putting the two close enough that Bisby could smell the rotted zombie pilot.

A massive crack appeared in the baked earth, opening the world above to the world below. Both mechs tumbled into the fissure, smashing at each other with iron fists, knees and feet. The darkness swallowed them, their battle echoing, echoing, lost.

***

Dr. Themopolous walked into the mess hall. Finding Mathew she quickly moved to his side and bent down close. “May I speak with you for a second?”

Mathew looked at the other pilots at the table and then at the doctor. “Um, sure. I’ll see you all in the briefing.” He stood and followed Doctor Themopolous outside the mess.

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow when they were alone. Doctor Themopolous cleared her throat, glancing around to make sure they were unobserved. “You came from Foggy Bottom, right?”

“Yeah…?”

“Have you heard from anyone there recently? Any news of any…problems?”

***

Matilda placed a kiss on his cheek. “Bye Daddy!” she said, skipping out the back door into the spring rain.

Stanislaw got up from his chair, grabbing an umbrella and followed his daughter. “Take this baby.”

“Awww, Daddy, the rain isn’t going to hurt me,” Matilda complained. “It’s not like when you were a kid.”

Stanislaw smiled. “It’ll make your old man feel better.”

Matilda laughed and reached out. Before she could grasp the umbrella her skin started to melt from her arm. She screamed, so did Stanislaw.

He was still screaming when he came to in his burning cockpit.

***

“What are you doing?” Jay called up to Jethro.

“I finished washing Harlow’s mech and I’m working on the Rookie’s mech. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Jay closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, what I wanted was for me to work on the Rookie’s mech. I’m just going to have to go back over all of your work to make sure it’s right.”

“Fuck you, Rind,” Jethro barked, lowering the lift to the ground. He handed Jay his span-wrench. “You really need to start sleeping in a bunk. You’re a grouchy bitch in the morning.”

***

A mech hand crested the newly formed crevice’s side, struggling for purchase. The giant alloy fingers dug into the edge, anchoring them fully. With a groan of damaged hydraulics, Bisby pulled himself from the fissure, rolling his mech yards from the opening before standing.

“Stan?...Stan?” he croaked into his com. “ Goddammit Stanislaw! Can you hear me?”

He was met with static as his damaged mech swayed its way over to the smoking debris that was Stanislaw’s machine. He tried to bring up life sensors, but only basic navigation scanners seemed to cooperate.

“Shit!” he yelled, pushing his mech on.

***

Mathew walked back into the mess, nearly running into Commander Capreze.

“You heading towards the hangar, Mathew?” Capreze asked.

“No, sir. Wasn’t planning on it,” Mathew responded.

“You sure about that,” Capreze laughed, handing the mech pilot a full mug of steaming hot coffee.

Mathew took the mug, looking at Capreze, puzzled.

“Jay’s thirsty…and in a mood. My time is better spent getting ready for the briefing, don’t you think?”

Mathew laughed, “Sure thing, sir. I’ll make sure Mr. Grumpy Pants gets his fix.”

Capreze clapped Mathew on the shoulder. “Good man. Way to take one for the team.”

***

Bisby was close enough to see the extent of the damage Stanislaw’s mech had taken. He gulped, prayed and swore at the same time.

“Stan?!? Come in man!” Silence.

Bisby switched on his loudspeakers, feedback squelched at ear shattering levels. “FUCK!” Bisby roared, cutting the switch. His already battle damaged hearing rang and protested.

He stopped and took a deep breath. Grabbing his binocs he peered down at the twisted cockpit below, hoping for signs of life. After focusing briefly he was rewarded with movement. Stanislaw was alive.

Bisby looked closer and gasped. He pulled the binocs away, tears welled.

***

“Rookie arrives today,” Harlow said over a mouthful of synth-eggs.

June straightened. “Really? Today?”

“Yep,” Masters responded, sitting down with his second tray of food.

“Careful, Darling, don’t lose that tight bod,” Harlow joked.

“Don’t you worry, Babycakes. It’s all so I can keep up with you.” He leaned in and kissed her strongly, then pulled back, licking his lips. “Mmmm….eggy.”

Harlow laughed, sending bits of yellow flying. Jane recoiled.

“Jeezus, you two are fucking gross!” she snapped, getting up from the table and stalking out of the mess hall.

Harlow frowned. “What’s up her twat?”

“Nothing, that’s the problem.”

***

Stanislaw could smell the acid from the fuel cells. His mech was down hard.

He tried to reach for the strap release, but his right arm wouldn’t cooperate. He didn’t want to look, but knew he only had moments to get his ass out.

He pissed himself when he saw his arm two feet away, wedged between hatch brackets.

The cockpit shook violently. The dead mech was on him and Stanislaw wept as he wrenched the pistol from its holster and put the barrel to his head.

A hulking shadow of death fell over him as he pulled the trigger.

***

Jay jumped when Mathew sat down next to him. Closing his eyes, he took two deep breaths. “Don’t you pilots have a rec room to go play in?”

Mathew laughed, offering the mug of coffee. “You want this or not?”

“Thanks,” Jay sighed, taking a sip from the mug.

Mathew studied the schematics, then pointed at the coffee ring. “If that works it’ll change the entire battle landscape. The deaders won’t stand a chance.”

Jay glared at Mathew, daggers for eyes. Mathew drew back. “What? It’s fucking genius.”

Jay followed Mathew’s gaze and saw what he did. It was genius.

***

Wrenching at his straps, Bisby tried to free himself from his cockpit, hoping he could reach Stanislaw in time.

“Stan! No! It’s me! Don’t shoot!” he screamed. “IT’S ME!!!!!”

The pistol shot rang out, seeming insignificant compared to the cacophony of battle only minutes before.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” Bisby roared, pounding his fists against his cockpit’s frame until they were cracked and bleeding.

Slowly, fearfully, Bisby lifted his binocs, looking down at Stanislaw’s wrecked mech. It took him a second to focus, but when he did, he wished he hadn’t.

Bisby prayed some day he could erase that image from his memory.

***

Masters and Harlow left the mess hall, grabbing at each other and laughing. Harlow stumbled, tripping them both up and they crashed to the hall floor. She quickly took advantage and pinned Masters, straddling his hips with hers, slowly rocking back and forth.

Masters licked his lips and let out a playful growl. Harlow leaned down, nuzzling against his neck.

“Careful what you start,” Masters warned, his breath coming in short gasps as Harlow nibbled at his ear.

“Think we have time for a quick one before the briefing?” Harlow asked.

“No. You don’t,” Capreze said, stepping past them both.

***

Using all his skill as a mech pilot, Bisby carefully pulled apart Stanislaw’s cockpit, exposing the body of his mentor and friend.

The colossal hands lifted Stanislaw’s body away from the wreckage and into the air. Bringing the body to eye level, Bisby said his silent goodbyes, then deposited the corpse in an auxiliary cargo pocket.

Bisby turned his mech 360 degrees, trying to get his bearings, not trusting the minimal info his navigation scanners were giving him.

He spotted the ridge and pushed his crippled mech in that direction. The direction of the mech base. The direction of home.

***

“Okay, everyone settle down,” Commander Capreze said. “Let’s get through this as fast as possible and get on our way.”

The mech pilots grabbed a seat, ready for the daily briefing. Capreze sipped at his coffee, glanced at his tablet then started in.

“Alright… Only real order for the day is to keep an eye on Balsam Ridge. Harlow noticed some activity out there yesterday and we should probably keep a watch on it. Harlow?”

“Nothing, really. Just some Rancher movement. They didn’t engage, so I didn’t either, but they watched my ass the whole time.”

“Okay, next quick item…”

***

Bisby pushed his mech as fast as he could without the thing falling apart. He knew the damage was bad since he couldn’t engage the motor drive; he was walking the thing in to the base. Even with the hydraulics working, the long trek was starting to take its toll on Bisby’s legs.

Off to his right he caught movement. He tried activating scanners, but they were shot. He was walking blind, a 50-ton target with a living meal in the cockpit and a quickly putrefying corpse in the auxiliary cargo pocket. He raised his binocs.

“Fucking great,” he muttered.

***

Downing the last of his coffee, Jay rubbed his eyes and pushed away from his worktable. “That might actually work…” he muttered. “But first, some real work.”

He crossed the hangar to a partially dismantled mech, grabbing a span-hammer on the way. He surveyed the mech, taking in the wounded behemoth.

Nodding to himself he raised the span-hammer, took aim and whacked the mech in a junction point just above its ankle. He listened carefully then whacked it again. This time he smiled and tossed the span-hammer aside.

“Jethro! Put this heap back together! Try not to fuck it up!”

***

Bisby watched the wave of zombies crest the hill and swarm towards him. There must have been hundreds.

“Jeezus fuck! Where did they all come from!?!” he cursed aloud.

He tried to outrun them, but his mech was not cooperating. Accepting the inevitable, Bisby double checked his weapons, turned and made a stand.

When the front of the undead horde was fifty yards out he fired up the 50mms. Scorching hot lead ripped through dead flesh, painting the wasteland grey and black.

“DIE ALL YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!!!!!” he screamed in his cockpit.

Row upon row of zombies fell, finally dead.

***

“Need a hand,” Jethro asked, his grin filling his voice.

Jay struggled with the six cables he had hopelessly tangled around his legs. Jethro just watched him, eyebrows raised, waiting for Jay to give in.

Within seconds, Jay’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Jethro asked enjoying Jay’s torture.

“Yes, you can help me,” Jay growled.

“What’s the magic word?”

Jay whirled on Jethro, intending to throttle him, but his feet stuck solid and he lost his balance.

Jethro smirked and offered his hand. Jay slapped it away. Jethro offered it again, unfazed.

Jay gave up and laughed. “Thanks.”

***

The right 50mm overheated within minutes. Bisby watched it redline and swore as the gun froze up, metal fusing. He flipped switches, sending all available ammunition to the left gun without stopping the flow of bullets aimed at the overwhelming zombie masses only yards away.

Unbelievably a few zombies made it past his onslaught, climbing his mech’s legs, fighting to get at the flesh taunting them above.

Bisby agilely picked off the zombies, flinging each against the ground, pulverizing them.

Eyes manic, Bisby grinned wickedly, forgetting his loss and remembering why he had always dreamed of being a mech pilot.

***

Jay settled into the cockpit, secured his limbs and powered up the mech.

“So when do I get to do that?” Jethro asked over the com.

“When you become Chief Mechanic,” Jay responded. “Only the Commander, the pilots and the Chief Mechanic have their Reaper chips altered. You know that.”

“Yeah, but you know how things are way out here in the waste. Can’t rules be bent, just a little?”

“Fuck that! Last thing I need is your zombie ass coming after me. I like your chip just the way it is.”

Smoke poured from the mech’s control panels.

“Fuck!”

***

“Fuck this,” Bisby muttered. He started flipping switches across his weapons array.

He emptied the 50mm, started in with the plasma cannons, tossed in some plasma charges, fractal grenades and a little home made napalm Jay was kind enough to fit his mech with.

75 seconds was all that passed before movement ceased on the valley floor.

The already barren terrain was now a blackened hell, littered with smoldering zombie husks.

Bisby would have laid waste to God Himself if He had been unlucky enough to be present. That wasn’t an issue; Bisby had a bone to pick with God.

***

Commander Capreze ended the briefing, dismissing the pilots to their respective duties. Mathew hung back waiting for the others to leave then approached Capreze.

“Yes, Mathew?” Capreze asked, looking up from his tablet.

“Has Doc Themopolous talked to you about Foggy Bottom?” Mathew asked.

“No, why?”

“Not sure. She asked me if I’d heard anything from there in a while. She wouldn’t go into details, but, I don’t know, her tone was off.”

“How so?”

“More fear than worry. When did we trade with them last?”

“Not sure, check the requisitions. Let me know what you find out.”

“Sure thing.”

***

Bisby crested the ridge out of the valley and turned his mech to survey the carnage he had wrought on the landscape. His breath caught in his throat.

Sifting through the wreckage of Stanislaw’s mech was One Arm. It tossed pieces of debris aside, hunting for sustenance.

Bisby raised his binocs and watched in horror as One Arm found Stanislaw’s severed right arm, cracked open his cockpit and tossed the morsel to the ravenous zombie pilot inside. Bisby wanted to put his binocs away, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

One Arm turned and roared at Bisby in triumph.

About The Author:

Jake Bible lives in Asheville, NC with his wife and two kids. He is the author of many published short stories and the creator of a new literary form: the Drabble Novel. DEAD MECH represents the introduction to the world of the Drabble Novel, a novel written 100 words at a time. The Americans represents the sidequel to DEAD MECH. Jake really likes making shit up, even brand new words and literary forms. He also has many stories available as ebooks, including the collection Bethany And The Zombie Jesus: A Novelette And 11 Other Tales Of Horror And Grotesquery and 31 Days Of Halloween.

Learn more about Jake and his work at www.jakebible.com. Links to his Facebook fan page, Twitter and his forum can be found there, as well as his weekly drabble release, Friday Night Drabble Party, and his weekly free audio fiction podcast.

Check out his Amazon author page here Jake Bible Author Page for more info and for direct links to all books available on Kindle and paperback.