Chapter 99: Old Friends

James pounded out of the hive and back out onto West Street. The siren call of the demon symbol had fallen silent, but before James had destroyed the Nem3 queen and brought the black egg low it had called out to thousands of Nems, and they had answered.

Now, even with the hive extinguished, the area was flooded with demons. But the situation, it turned out, was under control.

James slowed, stopped.

And watched as Crimson Hydra went to town.

Above them all floated Olaf with his Circle of Protection, but now it was enhanced, the sphere’s surface burning white in an inverse simulacra of the hive as countless harpoons slammed against it to no effect. White mystic symbols appeared fleetingly across its curvature, and in the center Olaf stood upon his Wing, a great glowing armature of burning spiritual energy upon him, making him appear less a Viking and more Thor himself.

Olaf had summoned a Virtue, though it wasn’t Justice.

With a cry Olaf raised his axe and Seraphic Web burst into existence, strands of Bronze aura flooding the area in a thousand cross-cutting strands, affixing to building facades, cars, bus stops, kiosks, traffic lights.

Nem3’s screeched and howled in agony and died by the scores.

Meanwhile Denzel, Miriam, and Kimmie clustered close beside Olaf. Each was invested by another Virtue, even Miriam. Whatever was happening below was taking its toll above; Denzel and Kimmie both were continuously wracked by mortal wounds which they healed, flicker-flash, their expressions ones of sublime transfiguration.

Down below, Yadriel was holding court. Massive in his Nem3 form, he was invested in a Virtue’s blazing light, but more, wore ornate golden Angelic Armor over his demonic body. His movements were too fast for the demons to track, and his blows shattered limbs, burst heads. Wounds healed almost as rapidly as they were dealt, and over the cacophony of battle James could hear the kid roaring with laughter.

Jason swooped over the battlefield, and the young soldier’s Virtue was clearly Justice; James recognized the markings. His Aura Mastery lashed at the battlefield over and over again, slicing Nem3’s apart, his aerial movements adroit and graceful, avoiding most of the harpoons flying his way. Those that hit but briefly inconvenienced him, but Martyr’s Cry from Kimmie and Denzel kept him flying.

And Serenity?

Highest of them all, she gazed down upon the battle from seven stories up, her M2 trained on the tides of demons below, her gun blazing without surcease, her frame wrapped in the same Angelic Armor as Yadriel.

And Kerim? James searched and saw the scholar step into view behind an apartment’s open window. He leaned out, opened fire, and when a handful of harpoon’s blasted his way, stepped back, only to reappear on a rooftop across the street.

Sniping quicker than the enemy could react.

Let’s lend a hand,said James, and opened up with this double-barreled Vault Canon. The huge bullets scythed down the enemy, and for a minute it was nothing but unstoppable slaughter.

The demons ran at them, hurled their harpoons, raged, and died.

Finally the last wave eased.

Your rank is now Acolyte 9

You have 5 unspent points.

“Fuck yeah!” shouted Serenity, putting up her Ma Deuce and allowing her Wing to lower. “You did it! You fucking did it, James!”

The others drew close, Yadriel padding over in his demonic form, Kerim stepping out of the shadows of a large kiosk.

“We’ve a black egg in there that needs collecting,” boomed James through the War Hound’s grill. “But yeah. I did it. There was a Nem3 queen. Pretty vicious.” He paused, wished he could grin. “But she’s dead, now.”

“Fucking-A,” said Jason with a grin, reaching up to wipe demon ichor off his face. Like the others, the Virtue’s powers were fading away, taking with them the Angelic Armor and other temporary gifts. “That’s gotta be a first.”

“Doesn’t matter. I see you all leveled up.”

Yadriel shrank down from his Nem3 form into his own slender shape. “Man, it was like crazy. Every few seconds a new level. Never seen nothing like it.”

“Though we need to figure these Virtues out,” said Serenity soberly. “I didn’t understand what mine meant when it said it’d claim ten percent of my Arete, but I didn’t like it.”

“Useful though,” grunted Olaf.

“Let’s hold off on summoning them again unless our lives depend on it,” said James. “I got the same message, and I can tell you that I ain’t ready to go become some abstraction of Justice. Which of the four did you all pick?”

“Justice, too,” said Jason.

“Fortitude,” said Serenity.

“Same,” said Yadriel, bumping knuckles with her. “Angelic Armor, that Wolverine regen, and Remove Curse.”

“Prudence,” sighed Olaf. “Big surprise for me. I thought coming to New York that I would be at front of battle, but no. I am mother hen, but that is good, I like my friends staying alive.”

“Prudence,” said Miriam shyly. “Seraphic Web, Aeviternum Chance, and Aureate Buckler.”

Kimmie grinned. “Guess which that leaves the rest of us?”

“Kerim,” said James. “You didn’t invoke yours. Why not?”

Kerim removed his spectacles and frowned. “I am a secular man, yes, but I have tremendous respect for matters spiritual and divine. Having my essence, my sense of self changed by Arete has been… disturbing but hard to reject. Having that same essence claimed by a being that claims to be a Virtue? I’m not ready to accept such terms.”

“Fair,” said James. “Someone radio in to command. Let’s give them an update. Yadriel, Jason, Kerim, head into the hive and retrieve the egg.”

“Yes sir,” said Jason, raising his Wing to fly just above the other two as they jogged into the ruins.

“Yo command, this is Serenity. What’s up? We shut down the West Street hive, collecting the black egg now. Where you want us?”

“Serenity?” It was Star Boy. “I… I, uh…”

“Star Boy?” Serenity frowned. “What’s going on?”

“It’s… a lot’s going on. We’re losing people. A lot of people. It’s hard to, ah, process. But… maybe you could work your way up to the Holland Tunnel and cross over to Jersey? It’s ah… the situation there is…”

“Fuck dude, get it together.” Serenity glared at her radio. “We’ll get there pronto. Where’s Hackworth?”

“He’s talking to some bigwigs. I think… some generals?”

“Fine. We’re moving out, over.”

“Good luck. Just… kill them all, yeah?” James had never heard Star Boy so shook up. “Kill all them fuckers.”

“Damn,” said Denzel. “That sounds…” He trailed off, unable to find the right word.

Jason and the others returned a moment later, Kerim zipping up a backpack and slinging it over his shoulder as he ran. Without a word James began loping north, the War Hound crunching and smashing a path toward the Holland Tunnel.

The occasional pack of Nem3’s came into view and he mowed them down. But clearly the immediate area had been drained of demons due to the hive’s gravitational pull; it took their getting up by Tribeca and moving inland so as to be able to enter the tunnel to start seeing fresh action.

And the dead.

Never had James seen so many dead.

People lay everywhere. Sidewalks. Churned up inside cars where Nem3’s had reached in with blade-arms. Face down in the street, sitting against the walls, piled up where they’d fallen and died.

Nem3’s hunted amongst the ruins, prowling and seeking fresh prey, only to sense Crimson Hydra’s approach, turn with an eager howl, then die.

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James didn’t allow himself to slow, to even consider stopping to examine the devastation. Everybody had gone to ground in this area, with many front doors standing open, too small for the Nems but obviously allowing people to get off the streets.

Thousands dead wherever James looked.

It was a small comfort that he didn’t have a stomach or gag reflex, but on some level that denied him the comfort of an instinctive reaction. Instead he forced his mind to become steely and smooth, not taking in the horror that lay all around him and instead focus on killing and moving.

Several Blue Light teams were fighting in the hugely open area where multiple streets swept through two small parks into the Holland Tunnel entrance. Those desperate enough to brave the tunnel on foot to cross over from Jersey had spilled out into the open here, and the demons that had been summoned beneath the river emerged here as well.

James put on speed as he heard the sound of gunfire and the desperate shouts and demonic screams, and pounded up Hudson Street to break out into the open and see the firefight. The two teams had backed into a tiny triangle of cement and torn up dirt between the lanes that converged on the tunnel, and were standing back-to-back, firing desperately at the demons.

Of which there were only some thirty, but without Wings the teams were trapped, immobile, and on the verge of being wiped out.

James strode forward, the ground shaking beneath the War Hound, and summoned four Heavenly Assaults.

Even as the blasts of divine lighting dropped concurrently from the sky to hammer the demons from all sides with shockwaves of irresistible power, James opened up with both the Empyreal Gun and Vault Cannon, massacring the demons before they had a chance to react.

The world went nova with bright, searing white light, the blast of the Heavenly Assaults shattered the demons, and when the glow faded the enemy was all dead.

“Fuck me,” whispered one of the operators as James made his way across the lanes, his huge mechanical feet crushing Nem3 corpses.

James didn’t recognize either team. They were regular soldiers, recruited into Hackworth’s second Group.

One of the men stepped forward to greet him. Tall, lean, with wrap-around sunglasses above a hawk-nose, helmet jammed on tight, he looked familiar but James only placed him once he addressed the War Hound hesitantly.

“Hi there. Thank you for the assist -”

“Mancini?” James’s booming voice echoed off the buildings and caused the remains of both squads to jump. “Holy shit, it’s you.”

Mancini froze. “James Kelly? You watching this?”

James laughed. “I am this. I’m piloting the War Hound from the inside. I am the War Hound right now, for all intents and purposes. I didn’t know you’d joined Blue Light.”

“Hell yeah,” said Delvecchio. The lanky gunner emerged from the crowd with his huge gun propped easily over one shoulder as if it weighed less than a broom. “Aw man, tell me how I can get me one of those, James. There a form I gotta sign?”

Mancini grinned. “You kidding me Kelly? We’ve been keeping track of you ever since we split up. When the offer was made for volunteers to join Blue Light’s Second Group, we were first in line.”

Singh was sitting to one side, his left side drenched in blood, left arm little more than a bloody sleeve, but one of the other operators dropped a Healing Grace on him and his arm reformed. With a grunt he stood and moved to stand beside Delvecchio, where he snapped off a smart salute. “Sergeant Major.”

“Oh shit!” Serenity came gliding up on her Wing. “Will you look at these sorry assholes? Blue Light’s letting just about anybody into the outfit these days.” But her tone was so clearly joyous that the three men could only grin. “Where’s that sorry bitch Huffman?”

“Ah,” said Mancini, his grin disappearing as quickly as it came. “She fell during the Nem2 fourth wave. She made a noble sacrifice.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” said James. “She was good people.”

“Shit, I feel like an asshole again,” said Serenity. “I’m sorry, Mancini.”

“Don’t be.” He straightened. “Regardless, thank you for the assist. Anything we can do in return?”

“We’re headed to Jersey,” said James. “Situation over there’s fucked. You guys want to help?”

“Sounds good. But you won’t be able to take the Holland in that war machine. The tunnel’s packed with abandoned vehicles. You might be able to make your way over the cars, but the trucks will stop you cold.”

“Well shit.” James considered. Thoughts, Jelly?

We could go the direct route.

The direct route? The tunnel is the direct route.

No, James. Jelly sounded impossibly patient. The direct route. Through the river.

The Hound can swim?!

Of course not. But it can walk. We’ll sink, cross the river over its bed, and emerge on the other side. Jelly paused, then added helpfully, you don’t need to breathe any more.

Ok. Ok, good. Let’s do that.

“You all will take the tunnel,” James commanded, trying to sound more certain than he felt. “Clear it of Nems as you go, then wait for me where it opens up in Jersey.”

“What about you, boss man?” asked Jason. “You going to jump across?”

“Something like that.” James caused the Hound to twist its chassis from side to side briskly like a man limbering up. “Jelly tells me I don’t need to breathe any more, so…”

“You’re going to walk?” Serenity stared at him. “Do you know how nasty the Hudson is? What kind of shit is in that mud? Urgh.”

“He’s a robot, yo,” said Yadriel in annoyance. “I don’t think he’s giving many royal fucks about it.”

“Urgh,” said Serenity for emphasis.

“Move fast, stick together,” said James. “I’ll see you there. Good luck.”

And with that he began to lope west, toward the waterfront. It felt weird, almost wrong to leave this crew behind, but he had to work with the Hound’s limitations.

Two blocks later he left the last of Manhattan’s buildings behind as he burst out into the West Street once more. He pounded across the divided lanes, leaping over abandoned cars, then hit the Hudson River Greenway at a run.

The Hudson glimmered through the trees and low bushes, flat and turgid, a dark and uninspiring grayish green.

James tapped hard-burn. The War Hound exploded into a sprint. He crossed the thin belt of greenery in seconds, hit the great concrete walkway that marked the very edge of the island, and with a roar that echoed out over the river he leaped, surging up over the fencing to fly out over the waters, his shadow trailing after him.

He hit the water a dozen yards out and sank with a great splash, down into the murk. There was no sense of wetness, of temperature. Down he went, and suddenly the water was lit up with a brilliant glow that originated from him.

Lights, said Jelly helpfully. The Hound’s eyes can light up something fierce with a little divine power.

Thanks.

They hit the mud, which rose up in great plumes around them. The water was full of particulate matter, making visibility a limited thing indeed, and the surface was only some twenty-feet above them, though the ground fell away steeply into a frankly terrifying blackness below.

Shall we? asked Jelly.

Let’s. What’s the worst that can be hiding down there during a demon apocalypse?

Hahaha, said Jelly, utterly without humor. I sincerely wish you hadn’t said that, James.

With nothing for it, James began to stride forward, and step by step the Hound rapidly descended into the abyss.

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