Mercury and I lay in each other’s arms when the sounds of gunfire filled the air. They happened before the makeshift alarms we set up were triggered. A couple of explosions followed, the result of grenade traps we’d set.
“Shit!” Mercury said, jolting upwards.
I grabbed my homespun boxer shorts and pants, sliding them both on in one clean motion before taking up my rifle. Heading out the tent flap, I saw the rest of our group had taken position behind supply boxes and was firing endless numbers of rounds into an oncoming horde of the living dead.
Reanimated, known as “West-boys” in Remnant lingo.
The Reanimated moved with an inexorable, cold shuffle of their rotting limbs, but this was a trick. They were unnatural things that did not need to obey the laws of physics. When they got close, they often displayed astounding speed and could perform feats of strength impossible for a living man or woman.
No one knew why the Reanimated existed. A scientist in the early twentieth century named Herbert West had reverse-engineered an alchemical formula in the Black Keys of Solomon to bring them about, but “naturally-occurring” Reanimated were a fact of life in the Wasteland. In the Tainted Zones and places where M-Rads were high, death could not hold the fallen, and they returned with an all-consuming hatred for life.
Reanimated were one of the rare exceptions to the creatures of the Rising having no real interest in humanity save as a bug to be squished or the occasional meal. While some necromancers like Doctor Ward or the Hasturians could control them, most were the relentless enemies of all life.
This particular horde of undead looked fresh. They wore the clothes of scavengers and Wasteland folk with fresh bullet holes and wounds from where someone had cut them down with conventional weapons. Their stink was repulsive, letting me know they’d been dead for weeks, and there was a wind coming from the tunnels below. It was their numbers that staggered me, though. There were nine or so creatures along the front row and hundreds more behind them. Someone had slaughtered an entire town, something humanity couldn’t afford to lose, just to bring the inhabitants back as weapons. The remainder of our group’s grenade traps went off and blew two dozen or so of the monsters apart but left barely a dent in their ranks.
We needed to flee.
Turning my head, I saw that the lightning storm was still ongoing. There was no escape the way we came.
“Shit,” I cursed aloud. “When it rains it pours.”
I would never admit it, but Reanimated terrified me. Every time I saw one of those horrific parodies of life, I couldn’t help but flash back to the massacre of Gamma Squad in the Black Cathedral. I had faced infinitely worse creatures both before and after, but they were the ones that made me wish I could flee. Stephen, Jimmy, Parker, and Garcia had all perished because I wasn’t strong enough to defend them.
“I hate West-boys!” Thom shouted, firing into the ranks of the undead with two pistols. Every bullet was a headshot and caused the Reanimated they struck to catch fire before falling to the ground, creating an inferno the others had to walk through. I’d have to ask Thom where he got his rounds.
Jessica was sitting behind a crate of boxes, firing an automatic machine gun filled with flamer rounds. The Remnant-designed ammunition was less effective than Thom’s shots, but as she released round after round of explosive ammunition into the left side of the horde, she crippled their movement. Jessica noticeably aimed at the Reanimated’s legs.
On the right side of the shambling assault, Bobbie had conjured her flaming whip anew but was commanding it with her mind to move like a snake far from her hands. The flaming serpent bisected Reanimated, set them on fire, and decapitated them, but seemed to grow weaker with each one slain.
August, meanwhile, was standing far behind the rest of the group working a powerful enchantment to the Gods of Ulther, moving his hands in elaborate, complex gestures and invoking the names of ancient Stygian (later Egyptian) gods mixed in with other deities of the Hyborian Age.
Something was happening as a result, but I couldn’t tell what. Any man could call on the Great Old Ones or gods of the Dreamlands, but it was a rare being who knew how to make them respond. I knew but a handful of chants compared to him and Mercury.
And yet the Reanimated still came.
The first few broke through the assault of my fellows and rushed forward, passing the others by and heading straight for me and Mercury. My lover was behind me, dressed in a plain shirt over her pants. Lifting my rifle up, I held it steady and blew the head clean off the first of my attackers. The next moved too fast for me to shoot, hissing and spewing blood from its pus-filled mouth.
I slammed that one across the face with the butt of my rifle before using it as a shield against the pouncing attack of a third. Mercury shot both in the side of the head, causing my ears to ring.
“Next time, warn me!” I shouted, dropping the two truly dead corpses to the ground.
“No time!” Mercury said, firing headshot after headshot into the undead crowd. I did the same, knowing this might be the last fight of our lives. Not every one of our bullets hit home, but enough of them did to hold the creatures in place.
No, that was a mistake. They weren’t held in place. They were walking in place. Men, women, children, and deformed mutant amalgamations were all pressing forward but unable to proceed. It was as if they’d struck an invisible barrier. Narrowing my eyes, I saw the Elder Sign hovering in the air.
A dark force was pounding against it and cracking it, but for the moment, it was holding against the terrible scourge descending upon us. Looking at the piles of corpses on the ground, I saw we’d slain close to fifty of the beasts.
Not even a drop in their ranks.
Jessica, Thom, Mercury, and I kept firing into their ranks for a minute longer but stopped when it was clear they weren’t accomplishing much. August, though, fell on the ground and took a series of deep breaths.
“You’re doing?” I asked, looking over at August.
August nodded. “It’s as powerful a magic as I can work without a sacrifice, human or animal. The University may call magic technology of the mind, but it functions like the appeasement of hungry gods. They drain my life every time I call on them when they don’t receive their offerings. Forgive me, but I don’t love any of you enough to give more than I already have.”
“And if we need more?” Thom asked, his face sweaty from combat.
“Then I suggest you figure out which one of you should die,” August said, shrugging. “I, for one, pick you.”
Thom made an obscene gesture back at him.
“Let’s put a pin in killing each other for the time being,” I said, staring at the horde. “Something is eroding the barrier. I can feel it.”
“Yes,” August said, breathing hard. “There is a more powerful presence behind this than I. Something that wants us dead.”
“Oh, what tipped you off? The herd of zombies?” Thom said.
August snorted. “Please, true zombies are completely different.”
I was ready to shoot all of my allies.
“How long do we have?” I asked.
“Five minutes,” August said, shaking his head. “With Mercury’s help, I might be able to strengthen the barrier to twenty.”
“And with the human sacrifice?” Thom asked.
“Bastard,” Bobbie snarled.
“Just asking,” Thom said, shrugging. “We’ve got the entire world at stake and I’m sure one of y’all would love to give your life for it.”
Jessica took a moment to give Thom the finger.
He just smiled back.
“Can Bobbie help strengthen August’s spell?” I asked.
Bobbie shook her head. “No, his sorcery is different from mine.”
Great. “Well, we better think of something since that’s not going to hold much longer.”
“Nice observation, Captain,” Thom grunted. “What other tidbits of wisdom would you like to share?”
Nope. Not all my allies. I was just going to shoot him.
“These creatures knew where we were,” Jessica grumbled. “It makes me think that firestorm outside was no accident.”
“You think they drove us to this cave?” Mercury asked.
“No, I think they were trying to kill us. This is Plan B.” Jessica clenched her teeth. “Anyway, you could, I dunno, wish ’em away, Auggie?”
August shook his head. “No. I can maybe summon something nasty to deal with them, but it’s a bad idea to bring something into reality unless you have complete control. I can’t guarantee such a thing as long as whoever is controlling these things is out there. Breaking a wizard’s control over a demon means said wizard getting eaten and shit out in short order.”
“And what a loss to the world that would be,” Thom said, looking at a naked four-year-old girl with her lower jaw missing. “Fucking West-boys.”
I could hear the gnashing, snarling, and hissing of the monstrous parodies of mankind just outside of the barrier. It was a reminder of just how fragile the difference between humans and monsters truly was. I didn’t know if their souls were trapped in their bodies or if they’d ever had souls to begin with, but the thought of becoming one of those things was a fate worse than becoming an Eye of Yog-Sothoth. I was tempted to give into the horror inside me if it allowed me to tear into those things and save our group.
Do it, Nyarlathotep whispered. Let out the Beast within.
No, I hissed. I’d rather die.
Then you will. Eventually.
“So, if we kill the wizard, the horde stops?” Mercury asked.
“That’s the size of it, yes,” August said. “I think. Magic is never really tame the same way science is. No matter what the University maintains.”
“Do you have any idea how far away this wizard might be?” I asked, the beginnings of a plan formulating in my head.
“Close,” August said, looking like he’d run for ten miles. “This kind of necromancy isn’t something you can do from a distance. That’s thousands of souls bound to their corpses, begging for the release of oblivion or to feed the dreams of their gods. If it’s anything human, it has to be right behind the horde or damn close to it.”
“And if it’s not remotely human?” I asked.
“Then we’re even more fucked.” August shrugged.
At least he was honest. “Good to know.”
“John, what are you thinking?” Jessica asked.
“I’m going to do something stupid.” I looked back at Mercury. “Try and reinforce the barrier. August, summon your monster. I’ll make the distraction for you. Bobbie, Thom, Jessica, keep killing those things.”
Mercury said, “What if your plan doesn’t work, Booth?”
“Then I suggest you each save one bullet for yourselves. I won’t be needing one because I’ll be dead,” I said, running at the barrier full speed.
“Good luck!” Thom said, surprising me.
My thinking was the Eyes of Yog-Sothoth were the remains of the Kastro’vaal civilization, a species that no longer existed in our universe because they’d never existed. They’d been retroactively plucked from Creation by a Great Old One’s temporal manipulation. It was like going back in time and killing someone’s father before they were conceived. That person ceased to exist in the physical world.
Yog-Sothoth, however, existed at all points in space/time simultaneously. That included times that no longer existed. Therefore, the Kastro’vaal had continued to exist in his dimension and probably made some sort of pact with that eldritch god. That was why they’d been visible from the Hinton Library. With the library to show me how, I had some sort of connection to the same universe. If I took advantage of those same cracks I’d seen in reality, I could do what the University students could. If I couldn’t? Well, I was about to die looking like a fool.
Passing through the barrier, I slammed into the chests of a dozen of the Reanimated. The creatures brought their grasping claws and gnashing teeth down onto my body. My rifle fell from my hands. I threw my now-empty hands up in the air to struggle but it was no use and …
I found myself in the middle of a tunnel empty of Reanimated. Up the tunnel, I could hear the gnashing and hissing of the undead horde I’d just escaped. Down the tunnel, I could see a turn in it and the light from a fire where a shadowy humanoid figure knelt in prayer position. I could hear mumbling of some sort of blasphemous prayer. I’d found the wizard who was controlling the Reanimated.
“Huh,” I whispered, staring at the shadow. “It worked.”
“No, it didn’t,” I heard a voice say behind me.
Turning around, I saw an indistinct form nine feet tall, with horns upon his head and a bulky figure far more than my own muscular frame. He seemed to be both here and not here, existing in multiple places at once. A concept I was rapidly getting used to. I couldn’t concentrate well enough to see the whole of him, though.
“Whateley?” I asked, staring. “You’re the one trying to kill us.”
“No,” the figure said. “Quite the opposite. You’re welcome, by the way. I wouldn’t suggest trying that again without a few centuries of practice.”
The figure faded away.
I shook my head and looked around for my rifle. It hadn’t come with me. I was now shirtless, weaponless, and facing a wizard controlling a horde of monsters. If I was King Conan of the Aquilonians or Titus Crow, I might have had a chance, but this was ridiculous. Hearing the sounds of gunfire echo down from the tunnel, I knew the barrier was starting to fail.
I reached down and picked up a large rock. One barely able to fit in my hands. This was a horrible idea for any number of reasons, but if I needed to go caveman in my attempt to save the group, I would do so. My footsteps were silent as I moved, slipping around the corner of the tunnel to see the torch-lit source of the Reanimated assault. The torches rested on black iron stands, like lamps, implying the creature needed light the same as any other human.
But the source of our woes was not human.
Not remotely.
In the center of the tunnel, in a multi-angled star painted on the ground, one drawn in blood that seemed to shift in size and dimension, knelt a figure that would haunt my nightmares if they already weren’t full of even worse creatures. The figure wore robes similar to the University’s, only much more ornate—jet black with a beautiful white interior visible under the hood, and long trim covered in symbols that were eerily familiar to me. It was not the figure’s attire that was unsettling, though—it was its face.
Or more, precisely, its lack of one.
Where there was supposed to be a face was a disgusting lump of burned, tanned flesh. It was like someone had carved away its features only for it to heal over everything that would identify it as a person. What was worse, though, was its hands. The ones extended out into the air. Each one’s palm contained a mouth that was speaking, a sickly black tongue moving in and out with each inhuman syllable spoken.
“Arch’tung Ku’Tu’Lu fg’tnah fg’tnah Has’tor nastuul T’ruuuk’rhu zal Rastogan. Gh’targh Gh’targh Oroarchan.”
The words, a series of invocations to Great Old Ones both familiar and otherwise, terrified some primordial part of my brain that had evolved in the shadow of the sleeping Dark Lords of the Earth. I felt waves of power radiate from the ever-changing star at the figure’s feet, nausea and headache afflicting me from just being in its presence.
The Faceless One—for what else could you call such a creature?—raised its voice, and I realized it knew I was there. The words increased my terror a thousandfold, reducing me to a figure crying and quivering on my knees. I was stripped of all rational thought, left little more than a terrified babe afraid of the dark. Except I had been alone on a dark and empty world for the age of a species, and the terror it sought to inflict upon me just returned me to a familiar place.
Laughing, because there was no point in any other emotion, I hurled my rock against the creature’s head. The rock struck it where its nose was supposed to be and sent it spiraling backward, out of the ever-changing star. Once it was gone, the star dimmed and transformed into an ordinary eight-pointed burst symbol made of what appeared to black chalk mixed with bone dust.
The spell was broken.
The Faceless One got up despite the fact that my throw would have killed an ordinary man. Much to my surprise, it lifted its hands and an erudite-sounding voice spoke in English. “That was a very foolish mistake, Captain Booth. One I’m afraid you will have to pay the penalty for.”
That’s when its shadow moved from its body and began to strangle me.