Chapter 32: 31: FLUIDITY

Elias broke Schulz’s command without notice and moved all of his men, armed and armored, along with their field cruisers within a kilometer of the temple. The hunters had specific roles to accomplish upon breaching the temple rotunda and Elias tasked Davies and Hudson, who’d traveled with him thus far, to accompany him directly for his part of the entry.

The latest footage he reviewed from the NAV bugs revealed little movement among the bodies, most of them either latent or disabled on the floor. Unable to approach close to where the rebels were clustered, they could only survey what their zoom capabilities captured from afar without detection. What Elias saw was more than enough to proceed.

Jackal—or perhaps, someone more important than than Jackal—waited. For him. All this time…the native waited. Elias bit back hatred and remained aloof at the sight of hostages onstage surrounded by rebels, the leader of which—the ugly son of a bitch covered in dark ink marks and crowned with a black nest of hair—strolled across the stage in slow laps. Elias would get there soon enough. But, first, the officers from Silatem would clear out threats patrolling each level and remove any survivors they encountered.

“No warnings,” Elias said to the Silatem hunters as they prepared. “If they’re armed—if they’re wearing gear and playing guard—take them out. Stay quiet. Move fast. Copy?”

Copy.

The gray skies above gleamed in preparation for Ascension. Before long the twin moons would shine through the heavy clouds, glowing eyes in watch over the planet below. Davies and Hudson kept pace as Elias cut through the garden to reach the temple, passing through plots of tall artificial hedges and topiary statues, heading toward the western emergency exit. Behind them Rowan and Carvalho followed a distance behind, proceeding on an alternate route to get inside.

A muted, high caliber blast followed by a canine whelp of pain were passing notes marking events that Elias cataloged as they moved. Davies looked at Hudson pointedly when Elias reached for the emergency exit’s inlaid handle and Hudson faced the lieutenant in turn.

“Yeah,” muttered Hudson to Davies. “That was a wolf.”

“Aye, sir. That’s what it sounded like.”

“Happy now?”

“Not at all.”

Schulz’s disruptor left the temple mechanisms inactive inside. Elias slid the door open and slipped in through the crack, moving aside as the others followed. Parasites littered the hallway upon entry and Davies paused for a quick moment to survey the sight.

“Look at these kids,” he said, his voice tight. “Holy hell. Some of ‘em…took a lot of fire. Close range blasted right through. Broken bones and parts everywhere. It’s awful. The decay on their bodies—what the hell is this infection?”

“Keep moving,” Elias grunted back to the lieutenant. “If they’re not biting leave them alone. We’ll do…something for them.”

Davies returned to formation and the men kept low, halting their sensors and adjusting the interference waves their armor emitted—their stealth distortion—that rendered them undetectable to the swarm inside. Elias recalled his memorized map of the temple, noting their current position in relation to the stage.

The men took the next right as they approached a corridor, keeping tight to the wall and moving through a sea of costumed juveniles in various stages of rapid mutation. Without the aid of the sensors the hunters relied on the sights, sounds, and smells filtering in through the helmets of their suits. A scattering of gunshots erupted from the center of the rotunda and kept them on high alert.

First entry along the way was shut and Hudson and Davies kept cover while Elias slid the door open. He slipped inside, sweeping the area with the muzzle of his rifle, scanning the interior.

Three rows of pews angled toward a stage inside with a podium weathered from disuse stationed against the back wall. A masked figure in black gear sat on a bench with a rifle beside him, appearing to be resting. Elias moved behind him and aimed his rifle down, squeezing the trigger once to release a muted projectile into the man’s spinal column.

The masked head bowed and his body slumped to the side, tumbling off the bench to the floor. Elias ripped the mask off of the corpse and moved to the western wall, watching Hudson circle to the right to check a pair of closed closets. Davies covered their entry and adjusted aim as Hudson opened one of the doors, finding a parasite trapped inside, a boy with sunken eyes and sharp broken teeth who stared as he shambled outside.

Elias balanced his rifle in one arm, tapping his finger on his COM band to adjust their stealth distortions. Calibrations that allowed light recognition were useful for certain field operations, however not when he intended to be invisible. He toggled the levels until the parasite lost interest and shuffled towards the corpse on the floor instead. Elias noted the adjustments before returning to the door, slipping outside again to resume circling the ground floor of the rotunda.

The hunters advanced and repeated the process, finding another worship room empty save for a scattering of parasites, youths that had once been the student body of the best Altirian schools now turned rabid. Their next checkpoint down the line led to a divulgence area housing multiple private chambers facing a mirrored wall. Parasites were present there, standing around in a stupor, watching their own reflections. The hunters moved around them to clear the rooms, keeping an eye on the cluster as they worked.

Elias halted at the sound of low singing emanating from the chamber furthest down the hall. He continued, leaving Hudson and Davies behind, and approached the door, tilting his head to listen to the disturbance. A female voice hissed in melodic tongue, chanting in steady and untiring rhythm, and the sound resembled the static that struck their sensors whenever a parasite was targeting within range. Elias tried the door handle and found that it was locked from the inside.

Hudson approached as Davies protected the entrance, taking position on the opposite side of the door. Elias signaled for Hudson to listen to the sound and the Hudson’s visor lowered, the commander stepping back after a moment to cover the door with his aim.

Elias rapped his fist against the door. “Defense!” he barked, his voice amplified by the suit’s mechanics. “Open up!” He retreated and waited, watching the door slide open.

A youth appeared dressed in a white sheet soiled with black and red that Elias supposed was a ghost costume. The boy stood guard in front of the dim and quiet room behind him and was the youngest student the hunters had encountered so far, couldn’t have been more than eleven. Wide, tired eyes darted between the hunters, moving from their armor to their helmets and their weapons, before the boy’s exhaustion vanished, replaced with a burst of sudden joy.

“Defense!” shouted the boy, turning his head back into the room. “Defense is here! Finally!”

The boy moved aside, animated with new energy, and followed Elias as he entered. Elias tried to count the number of heads he found inside—there were many them all crammed into a tight space. More than fifty. More than sixty—some were holding on and shielding each other, which made it difficult to discern a count. A number were huddled around the room’s altar crouched on the ground, their multitudes of eyes following Elias passing through. Some wept as they watched him pass by and others grabbed onto his armor with gratitude. Elias acknowledged their reactions with a quick nod and put their displays of emotion aside.

“What’s going on?” he asked, keeping his muzzle low as he surveyed the crowd and the interior. He spotted a female curled up against the eastern wall, hunched inward as if she’d been cowering in pain for a long while. Cascades of long black hair covered her face and a circle of students remained close, their heads swerving to observe Elias when he moved towards her. The hissing music continued, melodic and tempered, the sounds coming from that female.

“The priestess,” said the boy, who’d pushed himself through the crowd to stand beside Elias again. “She’s in a trance. She’s been like that for a long time. Doesn’t hear a word we say.”

“Priestess.” Elias glanced down at the boy. “Priestess Khelot? The young one?” he asked.

“Aye. That’s Khelot.”

Elias turned his attention back to the girl. One objective obtained, at least.

“You said she’s in a trance. What kind of trance? Drugs?”

“No. Something…else. She got hurt real bad out there and we had to carry her when we found her crawling out of the restroom. She was screaming the whole time. Crying. Praying in that language. She started singing when we shut ourselves in here and after a while the banging on the door stopped, like the parasites were leaving us alone.”

“Thank you.”

Elias pressed on the boy to stay back before shifting closer to the girl. The judge’s daughter was alive but…something was wrong with her. She cradled her left arm to her chest and Elias could see a clean snap in it, the limb bent askew and signaling a severe break. Red bruises, scrapes, dried blood, and gashing cuts scattered her face and legs. From her positioning Elias gathered there was damage to her hip as well. Something else broken, maybe. She shuddered as she sang.

He slung his rifle aside and crouched, guiding her hair away from her face. Her eyes had rolled backwards far, leaving the whites of them exposed. She didn’t blink or react to Elias, her lips continuing to move steadily through foreign words. Elias touched her face lightly and her eyes rolled into place at the contact, revealing a dark and blood-filled gaze.

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The Khelot girl whimpered when she saw him, tears leaking down her cheeks when she tried to move. Elias reached into one of the pouches on his belt and removed a tranquilizing pin, maintaining a steady tone.

“Priestess,” he said. “It’s over. Everything will be all right. This is something for the pain—you’ll go to sleep very soon. Thanks for your help. You did an excellent job.”

A groan of hunger from the hallway outside stirred screams from the students. Hudson shut the door fast, enclosing them inside, and short bursts of muted high-caliber gunshots ended the rabid noises. Elias pricked the young priestess with the pin, tossing the polymer piece aside.

“When I give you all the signal I want you to count to ten and cover your ears,” he said, turning his helmet toward the crowd around him. “Don’t take your hands off until you’re outside.”

“Are you making us go out there?” said one of the boys behind Elias. “They’re…they’re everywhere. How can we—?”

“We’re taking care of that, just follow these officers on my signal,” replied Elias. He’d been logging their time spent internally since the moment Silatem breached the temple’s perimeter. Thirty seconds more and… “Stay close. They’re going to lead you to a cruiser. You’ll be seen by PHS right away.”

PHS—the idea of medical attention brought another flood of relief through the students. Elias watched Judge Khelot’s daughter’s lids drift almost closed, her breathing heavy and her tears slowed. He stood and brought his rifle back into hand, returning to the door, and the young boy tried to follow until Elias held up a palm to halt him.

“I need you to stay with the others. All right? Do that for me.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you. Everyone—” Elias turned toward the tired and harrowed faces. “Count.”

As he exited he heard some of them reciting the digits out loud. Hudson stood over the bodies of the parasites that were caught in a stupor earlier, aiming his weapon down at them.

“Khelot’s girl is here,” said Elias, surveying the hallway, catching a glimpse of the hunters in their armored suits in the long mirror. “Arm’s broken. Maybe hip, leg, or both. Some other damage but she’s alive. I dosed her and I’ll carry her out. You and Davies escort the rest.”

“Copy,” nodded Hudson.

Silatem’s disruptor deployed, launched into the garden with an effective area just wide enough to encompass the temple and the side streets where the safe houses were located. Feedback pierced the air and the rabids on the ground convulsed, a sight that made Elias frown. Disabled hosts shouldn’t have been affected by the disruptor. ‘Shouldn’t’ being the key word. However, that wasn’t the case for their industry anymore.

Elias motioned for the students to exit and they filed out of the room, nervous until Davies waved them forward with rapid gestures, urging them to hurry. They picked up the pace and followed the lieutenant into the main hallway while Hudson stayed close. Elias returned to the private room, assessing the state of the drowsy priestess.

He crouched beside her and examined her arm. A ragged, high scream erupted from her when he abruptly straightened the limb into place. Tears flowed again and Elias waited until the tranquilizer settled her further. When her eyes closed and her mouth parted in a daze he scooped her up with care, supporting her against his shoulder as he carried her back to the main corridor.

Parasites lay on the ground in every direction, some stacked so high from their sudden drop that they looked as if they were still standing. Elias spotted the last of the students charging around the corner, trying not to look as they hopped over scattered bodies. He scanned the area around him another time before following in their direction.

The hunters shifted positions, moving onto the next phase of the attack. Confrontation with Jackal was imminent and Elias would know immediately, with a deep sense of knowing, from somewhere in his gut, whether what Sesha hinted about the wildlander could be true. He’d know if the man waiting for him was a man he thought he’d never get the chance to kill.

Elias reached the end of the hallway leading to the garden and found the door wide open, covered by his chief operations officer Commander Hsieh. He reached the door, cradling the priestess close to minimize movement, and stepped over another torn-apart teen as Hsieh move aside to let him through.

Mist struck his visor and Elias was once again within the dim Harvest fog. Plasticine brightness from the temple’s artificial garden gleamed bright despite the arrival of gloomy weather. Elias charged at full pace down his planned route, his focus laser-pointed with his internal clock ticking. Momentum was shattered when another hunter charged into his path and blocked his way, destroying his fluidity. Elias skidded to an abrupt halt, the slack priestess rattling in his grip, and a monsoon of range ignited within him at the interruption.

“Get the fuck out of the way!” he roared, his voice projecting from his helmet as he steadied the girl in his grip. Time—there was none. Patience—he had none! He glanced at the tag symbol on the hunter’s armor and exploded further. “Mr. Agost,” he barked. “You’re fucking fired!”

“Captain.” Agost beckoned for Elias to transfer the load he was carrying, remaining calm. “Give the girl to me. You have to get back inside. Immediately.”

“What? Why?” Elias grit his teeth. A pair of short, shallow breaths put him back into the correct state of mind. “What’s inside?” he said. “What happened?”

“Your brother’s onstage,” replied Agost. “Confirmed hostage. Rebel leader’s holding a blade to his throat and looks ready to kill. Must have happened while the power was shorting. That second disruptor alerted him that you’re here and the matter’s escalated. So…Captain. Please. Give me the girl. I’ll tend to her.”

Elias handed the priestess to Agost, who accepted her carefully.

“Shooters on the second and third levels with targets on the rebel,” the commander continued. “B and C flank the stage with all rooms cleared. The remaining survivors are on the way to PHS and Hodges responded to our hails. Agreed to play support. CDPD remains on standby.”

“Commander—” began Elias.

“Go, sir,” interjected Agost. “I’ll take care of this. We’ll win. Let’s move.”

Agost left, carrying the priestess down his route. Elias guided his rifle back into grip and returned to the emergency exit, entering the temple and stepping over the jittering corpses—bodies that would continue to convulse for another full five minutes. The temple’s interior lights flickered, a majority of them shorted or in danger of cutting out.

Elias turned the corridor again and spotted one of his own watching the stage from behind cover, ready to shoot on command. More hunters were there—more stood everywhere and waited, unseen. He hurried toward one of the support columns lining the circular rotunda, easing his head around to assess the current situation.

A cluster of students sat on the floor upstage center, their bodies hunched close together. Armed figures paced the stage and Elias focused on the lone figure kneeling downstage, a young male. A teenage boy—a boy a breath away from being a man. Someone who might be Adam. Someone that Commander Agost had advised actually was Adam.

The blade against Adam’s throat glinted under the beaming lights from the few remaining spotlight orbs as Jackal brandished a scimitar, breaking the silence to belt out in sudden native song. Elias darted out of his concealed position and moved toward the main floor with rifle aimed, stepping into an area littered with hundreds of shivering bodies.

“Elias…” called Jackal from afar, his baritone voice booming in the stillness. “Is that you?”

Elias moved a few steps closer and reactivated his sensors, linking his visor to the scope on his weapon. Jackal wrenched Adam’s head back by a fistful of hair and Elias shifted his aim to place his target on Jackal’s head, adjusting his weapon to inflict maximum damage.

A quick scan of Jackal’s appearance revealed a muscled, long-limbed figure a pair of meters tall covered in hundreds—maybe thousands—of overlapping native runes. Jackal spoke again, the power of his voice reverberating against once holy walls. He pressed the edge of his blade against Adam’s throat.

“Elias,” said Jackal. “You’re here. At last.” He gestured toward the expanse of the rotunda. “Let’s begin.”

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