Beyond Armageddon: Book 02 - Empire (33 page)

           
The Shadow turned and ‘walked’ into a huge, long building. As it made contact with walls, those walls evaporated. No dust, no crash, no smashing. Instead, annihilation at some molecular level that left no atom intact.

           
As it erased one wall, a banner from an internal ceiling beam fluttered to the ground. It read, “Shooting Stage: One Tree Hill.” Nina saw catwalks and row upon row of colored lights hanging above a sound stage where, apparently, this show once filmed.

           
It moved off toward the back lot, seemingly uninterested in the dogs or the people for the moment. Nina did not waste the opportunity.

           
 
“Listen, we need to mass our fire,” she spoke to the Specialist and the Century Commander. “You know the drill. Sometimes you hit these things, sometimes you don’t. Grab one of the AT4s.”

           
The Specialist warned, “These three are all I got left, Cap.”

           
“Then they’d better do the job, right?”

           
Each soldier grabbed one of the shoulder-fired anti-tank rockets.

Nina then whistled to grab the attention of the K9s trailing the beast.

           
She waved and yelled, “Withdraw!”

           
The canines enthusiastically retreated from following the walking void and assembled around Nina and the two H-K handlers.

           
However, the Shadow noticed their withdrawal, or perhaps it heard Nina’s whistle, if it could hear at all. Regardless, the shambling creature changed direction, returning toward the front lot and stepping through an old catering truck on the way.

           
“Spread out, hurry!” She ordered the other two men who then jogged in opposite directions, trying to flank the Shadow as it closed.

           
It strode into the parking lot, although no part of the blackness seemed to touch the ground, despite making the motion of walking. No sound, no tremor, no impact she could see. Again, as if it did not exactly exist in her reality.

           
The dogs growled and snapped again, turning to face the approaching monster.

           
Nina yelled, “Fire!”

           
All three rockets launched nearly simultaneously.

           
Nina aimed directly where the creature’s ‘chest’ might be. The projectile passed straight through the target and headed harmlessly into the morning sky, its contrail drifting in the light breeze.

A second rocket came from the Shadow’s left and went through the blackness of what was supposed to be its head and continued on into that same orange atmosphere.

           
A third rocket, from the Specialist, impacted in what might have been the ‘gut’ of the thin entity. It exploded and shoved the Shadow backwards, not so much staggering as sliding. While the projectile hit, the explosion from the warhead seemed to miss, as if the entity faded out of existence in the microsecond between impact and detonation.

           
Undeterred, the Shadow moved toward Nina. She jumped in the Humvee and skirted away as the Shadow tried to smash one of its arms into the vehicle. It hit the pavement, leaving behind a gigantic pothole in the form of a perfect circle.

           
The other two soldiers and the K9s scattered. Nina drove between studio buildings with the Shadow in pursuit. While not particularly fast, it held the advantage of not having to go around anything, it simply sliced through buildings, cars, and walls as if they never existed in the first place.

           
As she struggled to round a left turn at the rear of the lot, her radio crackled.

           
“
Captain
Forest
! The supply truck is here! We got the damn pinball!”

           
She stopped driving. The Shadow bore down on her.

           
“Send the Grenadiers to keep this thing busy!”

           
Nina slammed the gas as the Shadow bent its lanky frame and pounded one black arm at her. The strike missed, leaving yet another perfectly smooth scar in the pavement.

           
She raced to the front lot again. As she did, the pack of ten Grenadiers hurried in the other direction to confront and, again, attempt to delay the monster.

She and the Specialist rendezvoused with a deuce-and-half army truck at the front gate.

The driver of the supply truck jumped out and pointed in the distance at the tall black stick of a thing walking around. Like all survivors of Armageddon, the man had seen his share of nasty beasts but few matched a Shadow for outright weirdness.

Nina and the Specialist hurried to the rear of his truck. There they found a three-foot square metal box.

“Throw it in the Humvee,” she commanded.

“You ever use one of these before?” the Specialist asked as he helped Nina move the surprisingly heavy box.

“Once myself. Watched a couple of other times. Easy now, right in the back of the Humvee. You?”

“Watched once. Didn’t get to see it work, the Shadow took out the guys and then went away before we had another chance. How the hell does it work?”

They thumped it down it he cargo hold.

“FM”

“What?”

“Fucking magic.”

“Oh.”

“Look, I don’t know,” she told what she knew. “It’s a byproduct of the Hivvan matter-makers we’ve been using. I went to a briefing once where Anita Nehru said they think the Shadow only exists in some kind of ghost state. I forget the word.
Ather-all,
something like that. I think the pinball contains anti-matter or something like it. Something left over from the matter-makers from the transfiguration shit they do to the atomic structure of—oh shit, I don’t have time for this.”

She flicked a latch on the top of the box and opened the lid. The pinball earned its name from its looks, albeit much larger than something one might find in an arcade. The silver surface of the ‘ball’ fluttered a little, as if not quite solid. The ball itself did not touch the sides of the box; anti-gravity circuits similar to the ones found in an Eagle air ship kept the device from touching anything.

“Wow,” the Specialist said. “I hear it takes like forever to make one of these.”

“Look, I got to move. Pull the K9s back. If this doesn’t work, keep the civilians out of its path until you can find more rockets.”

Nina jumped into the driver’s seat and drove off in the Humvee. Behind her, the Specialist and the Commander whistled for the Grenadiers to retreat.

The Shadow wobbled along the parking lot adjacent to a large clearing amidst a patch of woodland. Pieces of a castle—a prop from some movie—remained in that clearing.

Nina drove the Humvee directly at the Shadow. Retreating Grenadiers raced the opposite direction. She counted only five. The dogs had bought her time but at the price of half their number.

As she drove, she honked the horn, grabbing the entity’s attention.

She stepped on the gas, aiming straight for the black void.

It reached down to greet the suicidal human. Nina threw herself from the vehicle. Her body hit and rolled along the pavement. She felt a stinging pain in her wrist and a solid thump on her head.

The Humvee coasted into the creature, into the black space that defined the Shadow. A blinding flash of light marked the impact, but no noise.

Nina lifted her aching head from the pavement and watched the Shadow blow apart like a shattered window. That static sound rippled through the air growing so loud it sounded like an electronic scream.

When the sound subsided, the ‘pieces’ of black that had been the creature fluttered like feathers carried on the wind…then faded away.

–

           
Despite a bandage wrapped on her wrist, a deep thigh bruise, and a throbbing ache in her head, Nina drove Denise home to
Wrightsville
Beach
.

“You know,” Denise said as they approached the row of condominiums where most of the Wrightsville survivors lived. “I suppose, if you really wanted me to, I could hang at that City Hall.”

“You could, could you? Well, it was fun having you around but I think Mr. Brock is probably missing you.”

Denise smiled devilishly and said, “Yeah sure, if that’s the excuse you’re going to use to see Jim.”

Nina shot the girl a stern look. Before that look could dissolve into a smile, Nina refocused on the road ahead.

           
Brock met them at the condominium complex the ‘orphans’ called home. He wore a disapproving expression.

           
“You should not have done that. We were worried sick about you.”

           
“Hey, like, I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

           
The young girl turned to face Nina before she went inside.

           
“Um, yeah, well, see-ya.”

           
“Hey,” Nina stopped her. “You want to get together again, you don’t have to stow away.”

           
Denise tried to hide a smile as she turned around and disappeared inside.

           
Jim and Nina stood on the sidewalk alone in silence for a moment. It took him that long to realize the woman had injuries.

           
“Hey, you look all banged up.”

           
“Gee, thanks, aren’t you the charmer?”

           
“Well, I mean you look great. No, wait, I mean to say that looks like it hurts, but not in the ‘oh my God what happened to your face’ way.”

           
Nina said, “We ran into a pretty nasty baddy today. Don’t worry, Denise wasn’t anywhere near it.”

           
“No but she was near you. You should be honored. D’ isn’t the type to start hero-worshipping the first person who comes along with a gun and an attitude.”

           
“I have an attitude?”

           
Brock stumbled, “Well, um, I meant to say—”

           
“Yeah,” Nina nodded. “I have an attitude.”

           
The radio crackled, “HK teams, two Devilbats sighted in the northeast quad. Need assistance to track and kill. All units please respond.”

           
Nina walked to the radio lying on the front seat of the Humvee.

           
“This is
Forest
, I’m coming.”

           
She sat in the driver’s seat and turned to Jim Brock. “I’ve got to get going. I’ve got a job to do.”

           
Brock’s eyes sagged. “Yeah, sure, I know. But hey, thanks for bringing her back.”

           
“I’d like to stop by and see her again. I kind of feel responsible for her now. Besides, she’s got some sharp instincts. Pretty good reflexes and all.”

           
“She’s a good kid. They all are. Just, a bad break for them. For all of us, I suppose.”

           
“Better get a taste for it, Mr. Brock, beause it’s the only world we’ve got these days.”

           
“I’ll try. But speaking of tastes, do you have a taste for seafood?”

           
“Huh?”

           
He explained, “We eat a lot of seafood around here. I don’t know if you guys—I mean girls—I mean whatever—get much of that.”

           
“When I’m not in the field, I live in
Annapolis
. We get a lot of crabs. Not a lot of regular fish though. Not for me at least.”

           
“Then you should stop back when you get a chance. I know a good seafood place.”

           
Nina smiled. “Do they take credit cards?”

           
“
Miss
Forest
—I mean,
Captain
Forest
—I mean, Nina,” he stopped and sucked in a deep breath. “What I mean to say is, rescuing me and the kids from Mutants gives you good credit around here.”

           
Nina shifted into gear.

           
“I guess I’ll have to collect on that sooner or later.”

“You told me, I remember, glory, built

On selfish principles, is shame and guilt.”

—William Cowper

           
On August 27, as young Denise Cannon followed
Nina
Forest
through the streets of
Wilmington
, Trevor stood in the first floor den staring out the French casement windows through eyes as sharp as lasers. Behind him stood Dante Jones and Gordon Knox. On the grounds in front of him, he saw a trio of Dobermans patrolling.