Chapter 23: Nemesis 2

They rolled out in the hummer, four in the back, Mancini and Singh up front. The roads weren’t always passable, but Singh didn’t let that stop him. They’d bounce right up onto the sidewalk, bust through trashcans, scrape past vehicles, force a path.

Huffman stared out over the tailgate with bleak eyes, her mouth a thin line, her gun held tight. James knew to respect another’s grief. He skipped the small talk.

Delvecchio kept adjusting his shit. Checking the ammo pockets in his vest, tapping his radio, a little dance of his fingers over his night vision goggles folded up on the front of his helmet, touching each piece of gear that seemed to soothe him.

Everybody had their rituals.

Serenity rocked and swayed beside him, face blank as she stared out at nothing, Sigs out and resting on her lap, fully loaded, an army vest on, more mags in the front pockets.

“Where’d you get that?” James asked.

“Hmm?” She glanced down at the green vest. “Victoria’s Secret.”

“Pretty hot,” said James, deadpan.

She eyed him. “It is when it’s all I wear.”

They rolled on. The city had grown quiet. A fevered anticipation hung in the air. Everybody knew the First Wave of Nemesis 2 was about to hit. Folks were hunkering. Sirens weren’t quite as ubiquitous anymore. Maybe they’d burned out from overuse. Occasionally they passed a patrol out on foot, either soldiers or citizens, armed and looking to level, to bring a little rough justice to the streets, to redress the balance as best they could.

Occasionally the patrols gazed into the back of the hummer as they drove by and saluted.

James gave them a two-finger salute back, and each time wished them well.

Night had truly fallen by the time they’d reached their old kill zone warehouse. They drove through the open gates, Singh diplomatically opting to not use the hole where he’d busted out last time. They leaped out once he parked in the back again, and James looked around.

Hints of black ash, blubbery piles of black goo where gremlins were rapidly decomposing.

“Huh,” said Delvecchio. “I thought the bodies would stink more.”

He was right. They gave off a metallic scent, like overheated frying pans, acrid and bitter, but it was slight.

“Thank god for small mercies,” said Mancini. “Let’s clear the warehouse.”

James and Serenity let the fire team do their thing. They ran to the rear exit, Huffman arced around the open door, rifle raised, and when she gained the far side, she simply said, “Clear.”

Mancini entered and crossed out of sight to cover the dead zones, and then a moment later the rest of the team entered.

“All clear,” Delvecchio called.

The warehouse lights were still on, stark and harsh white. The huge floor was covered in ash and gremlin corpses. As outside, most had already collapsed on themselves, devolving into rubbery shit encased in brittle scales. Not slick, weirdly enough, but more tarry, like a mixture between stepping on chicken bones and melting blacktop.

“Let’s clear the far side, wrap around, and then set up,” said Mancini, leading the way with his rifle raised.

The fire team did as commanded, efficiently, quickly, with practiced ease. It was too easy to imagine them clearing homes in Afghanistan, working their way through buildings, learning to operate as a team.

James and Serenity moved to a spot along the left wall, perhaps twenty yards north of the exit out the back. With no way to know on which side the Nemesis 2’s would appear, it was best to have a wall behind them and the exit close but not so close a demon could burst through it and surprise them.

“Finally,” she breathed. “Want to make a bet on what it’ll look like?”

“Sure,” said James. “What do you think?”

“I’m thinking the mean uncle to Nemesis 1.” Serenity turned slowly; eyes narrowed. “Eight feet tall, scaled, with arms like a gorilla.”

“Nice. I’m thinking something completely different. Maybe…” James tried to imagine. “Maybe some kind of dog. Like the demon dogs from Ghostbusters.”

“Very nice.” Serenity nodded approvingly. “Good visuals, too. Fast, powerful bite. Those would fuck shit up.”

“Let’s hope I’m wrong, then.”

The fire team returned. Singh was carrying a black case and moved to the walls of the warehouse where he started affixing wireless cameras at head height.

Mancini walked up, tense but calm. “All right. Let’s review one last time. We’re assuming we’ll all be able to see the Nemesis 2, but it’s possible only you two will as members of the First Wave. Soon as they appear, call out whether you see it or not. We’ll immediately know if we four are going to help. If we can’t see them, we’ll cluster around Singh to benefit from his expanded aura and react as best we can.”

Nods all around.

“Assuming we can see it, we’ll stay clustered together and try to drop them from a distance. Singh, James, and Serenity let’s keep your auras as overlapped as possible for maximum efficiency. Consensus is that Nemesis 2 will have higher immunity to auras, but there’s a chance three combined will still knock them out.”

More nods.

“Delvecchio, you’re our heavy hitter. Smite up and put the first one down with your SAW. The four of us will focus fire on the second Nemesis. James, hold back and see if we can’t handle them with that alone. If one of them manages to close, step in and skillet the fuck out of them.”

“Roger,” said James.

“Stay calm, be mindful of each other’s field of fire, and let’s show them who these fuckers are messing with.” Mancini made eye contact with Delvecchio, Huffman, and then Singh as the grenadier walked up.

“Can’t wait,” said Serenity.

“If I give the command to evacuate, we move along the wall toward the rear exit,” Mancini said pointedly. “Best if we keep our rear covered. If that’s not possible, just do your best to get out.”

Grim nods.

“We got this.” Mancini looked about the group once more. “We ready?”

“Ready,” said Huffman, her voice steely-cold.

“Born ready,” said Delvecchio, lifting his SAW.

Singh nodded curtly. “Yes sir.”

Serenity clinked a Sig against James’s skillet. “Mazel tov.”

James frowned. “I don’t think that means what you… never mind.”

They faced out, guns raised. James had his countdown before him. Ever since passing the 1-hour threshold it had started counting down the minutes.

5 Minutes till Nemesis 2 Released

“Longest five minutes of my life,” muttered Delvecchio. “Anybody bring some bread rolls?”

Huffman didn’t even glance at him. “Shut up, Del.”

“Is that a no?”

“It’s a shut the fuck up.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.”

“Easy,” said Mancini. “Stay focused.”

The minutes ticked down. Guidance had been issued by central command to Mancini to not wait till the last minute to prepare. Nobody knew how honest the countdown timer was, and it’d be appropriately demonic for the Nemesis 2 to appear a few minutes early while everyone was setting up.

James stood stock still, skillet on his shoulder. Two minutes to go. The food sat heavily in his gut, but he knew he’d be faint without it. He rippled his fingers on the iron handle.

One minute.

The lights began to dim.

“Wait, what?” Delvecchio’s cry was raw with alarm. “Hell no! That ain’t fair!”

James lowered his skillet. The fluorescent bulbs that ran the length of the warehouse weren’t dimming equally; further down, perhaps twenty yards away, they radiated normally.

“Fluorescent lights work that way?” asked Serenity nervously. “Or this some supernatural shit?”

Singh exhaled audibly, forcing himself to relax. “Supernatural shit.”

It was just a twenty-yard radius that covered the end of the warehouse in which they stood. The rest blazed at full glare.

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But it didn’t go completely dark. Just a dusk-like gloom.

Enough to still see and shoot in.

A knot of shadow formed some fifteen yards before them. Began to interweave, coalescing into a shape.

Nobody gave it time.

Delvecchio opened fire with his SAW on full auto, its length wreathed in gray fire, while Mancini, Singh, and Huffman let loose with their M4’s. The sound was deafening, their muzzle flash strangely dim in the gloom but for Delvecchio’s which burned as bright as ever.

James stared intently, trying to make out what they were pouring hundreds of rounds into.

It took up the same space as a car, insectile, with a centaur-like thorax rising straight up at the front. Praying mantis-styled front pincers were large enough to clasp a grown man, and its entire body was jet black and gleamed as if it had just been dipped in a vat of crude oil. Faint crimson markings were barely visible across its abdomen and arms, and its four legs were improbably slender, the knee joints articulated higher than the abdomen itself.

But what riveted James’s attention was its face.

A human face.

Or close.

Porcelain white, expression fixed - a mask, he realized - the eyes black holes, the features strong, striking, the broad mouth pulled into the faintest of smirks, the brows furrowed, cracks radiating from the eyeholes up its brow and down over its cheeks.

A dominating, cruel visage. The face of a rogue tyrant, a sadist, a torturer.

No hair, the expression immobile, twin antennae rising from just under the temples of the mask.

One moment it was a coalescing knot of shadow, rounds blasting right through it, the next it was there in its massive insectile horror.

The SAW tore it apart.

The rounds were lit with gray flame, and sprayed across the Nemesis’s chest, shattering its pincer arms, ripping its frail chest plate asunder, then crossed back, and then rose up to hammer at its head.

The demon reared back, eyeholes dark pits, its sneer not changing, and then it collapsed onto its side.

The SAW ran out of ammo. Delvecchio drew back a bolt, flipped open the top, cleared something out of the inside, tore away the drum, slammed another on, grabbed the tab, pulled a belt of bullets out, draped it over and closed the top.

But the Nemesis 2 wasn’t moving.

James remembered to breathe.

Then he remembered there were supposed to be two of them.

Serenity screamed, started firing her Sigs of to their hard right.

The second Nemesis 2 had coalesced fifteen yards along the wall, identical to the first, its mask utterly malefic, its chitinous body gleaming, its legs flexing as it crouched.

Serenity’s Smite-enhanced shots punched deep into its chest, bambambambam-

The Nemesis 2 leaped.

Same leaping speed as the gremlin, its spindly legs propelling it forward with less of an arc so that it came at them like a hurled spear, a hellish cannon shot. Huffman, next to James, swung her M4 around and opened fire.

But her M4’s ammo didn’t seem to do much, and though Serenity’s shots tore deep the Nemesis 2 was coming in too fast, its pincers opened wide to reveal scythe-like blades on both insides.

This was his moment.

James shouted and lunged forward, activating Smite as he went. His skillet burst into gray flame, and then his whole body incandesced as the Nemesis 2 entered his Rank 5 aura.

It didn’t ash.

James had known it wouldn’t, but he still felt a shock. Instead, its black body began to turn gray, its chitin warping, but James had only a second to appreciate this before he swung his skillet, aiming for both limbs as they came at him in the hopes of smacking them aside.

He had the explosive strength, but not the hand-to-eye coordination; he batted one limb aside, shattered it, but the second closed around his waist, slicing deep into his gut.

Someone was shouting. The Nemesis 2 tried to lift him up, but its withered limb shattered, releasing James, who, pumped to the gills with adrenaline, lunged forward and slammed his skillet into the creature’s head.

The aura washed over the demon completely, his Smite-enhanced skillet shattered the mask, and the fight went out of the demon. It sagged, legs splaying out wide, its abdomen sinking to the ground as its outer surface ashed.

Your rank is now Supplicant 1

You may select a Benediction:

Dark Vision | Sacred Strike | Deadeye

Your choice of Benediction is your second step

in determining your class.

You have 5 unspent points.

James staggered back, blood pouring down his legs. The wound was terrible and he felt the strength go out of his legs. He sank, a voice clinically listing everything that was wrong with him.

Its verdict was clear.

It was a mortal wound.

Serenity was shouting, several guns were still unloading into the demon, but James ignored it all.

“All right,” he whispered, heat flooding up his throat, his mouth filling with the taste of copper. “It’s fine. It’s fine.”

He summoned his stats. Looked at his Aeviternum and triggered one.

It was like stepping out of a sandstorm of red-hot iron fillings into a Hawaiian waterfall. Cool, soothing energy flooded his body, washed away the pain, the deep sucking sense of wrongness that was consuming him like a black hole shoved into his gut. His blood ceased pumping out over his hands, he felt a distant prickling as flesh and organs reknit themselves, then his skin sealed over, and it was done.

He was completely healed.

It had taken less than a second.

The others all went silent. Even the guns ceased barking.

“Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit,” Serenity whispered like it was some kind of mantra. “James?” Her eyes were wide as fucking saucers. “James. You’re all right.” She laughed, her voice tinged with hysteria, and raked her hair out of her face, smearing some of his blood across her brow. “Aeviternum?”

“Aevi-fucking-ternum,” he agreed with a rueful grin. “Sorry about the scare. I think it’s time I retired the skillet.”

“Woo!” Delvecchio raised his SAW. “Level! Better than sex, bay-bee! Get some!”

Mancini crouched down beside James, his expression furious. “I’m sorry. This is on me. Amateur mistake. We should have had eyes on our flanks. You’re all right?”

James climbed to his feet. “Better than all right. I feel like I just returned from a spa.”

Only then did he turn to consider the Nemesis 2’s. They both lay still, splayed out, bodies shattered by the high velocity rounds and blunt force trauma to the head.

The expressions on their masks, where they were still visible, remained the same.

Dark, amused, cruel, masterful.

Delvecchio’s grin slowly died.

“Shit,” said Huffman, staring at the demons. “We are all so fucked.”

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