Beyond Armageddon V: Fusion (53 page)

“I had no choice!” Trevor yelled and his voice echoed through the endless chamber. The pulses of energy from the spheres containing the inky-black Nyx crackled loud like a blast of lightning and thunder. “The stakes were too high! All of the world on my shoulders!”

“Poor Trevor, no choice at all…”

Trevor’s yell turned to a sob, “I never wanted this! None of it. I did not choose this path. I—I…”

Trevor clasped his head with both hands. The body of Danny Washburn stepped closer like a shark in blood-scented waters lunging for the kill.

“I can release you from it all. I can make the guilt and the pain go away. Old Danny boy knows a few secrets, you see. You listen to me, Trev, and I can make it right as rain.”

“Father!” Jorgie pointed at Danny and shouted, “Don’t listen to him! He is empty, Father! He is as empty and dead as everything in this place!”

As he shouted, the nine year old boy—without realizing it—stepped in Washburn’s direction. In that moment, the thing that looked like Danny Washburn grew a scowl on his face and hurriedly retreated a step. In fear.

Trevor witnessed that fear. Everything changed.

“I can make it all right for you, Trevor. Do what I ask and I promise you, no more pain. I can do more than save your people, I can make them immortal. I can make you immortal, Trevor.”

But the bribe felt flat. Trevor had seen the thing falter in the face of a little boy and with that falter, the creature wearing the cloak of Danny Washburn lost its power to bully or persuade.

“Is that what you tell all the races? How many ears have you whispered that promise into? I’ll bet you told the Feranites they were special, that you would help them. How did that work out?

Washburn glanced from Trevor to Jorgie and said, “Are you sure you don’t want to listen to my offer, Trevor? Say, maybe I can even throw in the woman you love. Oh, I’m sorry, the boy doesn’t know, does he? He doesn’t know that you don’t love his mother.”

“Shut up!” Jorgie hurried to his father’s side and grabbed hold. “You aren’t real! You’re a phony!”

“How does that feel, little one? I bet it scares you. I bet you would do anything to keep your father and mother together. You need them to love each other. Nothing can stand in the way of that: no one. Especially not another woman who isn’t Mommy. You’d do anything to keep your parents together because if Mommy and Daddy don’t love each other, maybe they don’t love you, either.”

Trevor felt his strength return in no small part from the hug of his son. His jagged breath eased. The wobble in his legs steadied.

“It’s okay, Jorgie. You’re right, don’t listen to him,” Trevor wiped his hand across his eyes as if clearing his view. “Truth is, he’s powerless.”

“Powerless?” Washburn’s voice shook in the slightest. “I have more power than you can comprehend. I am eternal. You are frail and inferior.”

“You are
nothing,”
Trevor insisted and he recalled words Lori Brewer once used. “Power is never taken, it is given. You have only the power that the others have given to you.”

“Leave!” Washburn ordered. “Leave now and maybe you’ll live a while longer.”

“You’re the one who is going to leave. You’re the one who doesn’t belong here.”

“You sound so sure of yourself, Trevor. Do you really think your little surprise army means anything to me? I’m not the Hivvans. I’m not the Duass. I don’t have to play by the rules, Trevor. I
wrote
those rules.”

The thing that wore Danny Washburn’s body glanced up at the crackling energy between the two orbs. The power there grew to a frenzy. Glowing, shimmering tendrils reached from one of the spheres across to the other. The clouds of black inside writhed back and forth in pain.

Strands of energy intertwined and formed a glowing image. In that image Trevor saw the waterfront of a modern city. It took him a moment, but he recognized post-Armageddon Seattle with blasted buildings, abandoned cars, and debris strewn across the streets.

On those streets slithered over-sized snakes with metal fins along their spine; large ape-things with a cluster of spider eyes and four arms; glowing red worms the size of a city bus with barbed ribs along their sickening body; and legions of other nightmares.

“I can summon infinite reinforcements. I can reach back through the time line of this universe and grab what I need…” the creatures disappeared. No flash. No slow fade. Just wiped from existence. “…from a time that would not have served me. And deposit them here.”

The view shifted to outside the temple. From the brief glimpse afforded in the pool of energy, Trevor saw the European force driving across the black plain with piles of dead monsters before them. Clearly a victory in the making.

Then blobs of green appeared in their path. The monsters of Seattle from a time past emerged from the vessels and took to battle immediately. The human strike faltered and split then withdrew; a victory turned back.

“That was easy, Trevor. No limit. Nothing to stop me.”

This time the image between the orbs showed Grand Forks, North Dakota. The Red River had climbed its banks and flooded most of downtown. The western stretches of the city, however, were flooded with a different catastrophe: hordes of demons, some walking upright, others crawling or flying. Angry, snarling beasts that sought prey not for sustenance but by impulse; an impulse to inflict pain. To destroy for destruction’s sake.

They disappeared from Grand Forks, leaving it exactly as The Empire would find it a few weeks later: half-flooded and fully deserted.

The army of beasts re-materialized outside the temple walls in blobs of green from which they quickly burst forth and joined the battle. The Europeans were forced wholly off the plain and sent scrambling to the west.

“Go. Take your—take your
son
with you. Go into seclusion and never return. You may live out the end of your sad existence without interference from me.”

Trevor tilted his head and studied the body of Danny Washburn. The demonstration of power did not intimidate Trevor. In fact, it had the opposite effect. Trevor now knew his choice to confront Voggoth had been the right choice. He knew because history demanded fulfillment; a circle waited to be closed.

“We’re not going anywhere. I came here for you.”

“You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

“I know exactly what you are. You’re the rot that remains when something living decays. You’re the after-birth of the big bang; a side effect of the creation of the universe. You come from some void where you’ve been since before time. And you’ve watched us. You’ve watched the living. You’ve watched species rise from bits of bio mass into mighty civilizations and that scares you. Ever-changing, getting better, improving with each generation.”

“You wither and die. I am eternal.”

“You are stagnant! You never change. Since the moment you existed you have been all that you will ever be. And you look out from your void and see life flourishing and growing and experiencing the universe. You are filled with nothing but envy and hate. That’s why your ‘children’ are cruel and vicious; that’s their purpose, to punish life. That’s why you tortured me for the sake of torture. And that is all you have to offer: violence and misery.”

The thing that looked like Danny Washburn answered, “I am filled with envy and hate? Look at your ‘evolving’ life—look at
your
species. You divide into sub-groups of race and culture, always searching for reasons to call your own superior; better.”

“And that’s how you’ve done it, right? You tapped into the dark nature of each of the races and used it to your advantage. You are a master manipulator and with your bag of parlor tricks you’ve convinced them that your sad corner of existence is some kind of immortal paradise; that you are a king-maker that can bring all manner of wonders if they are worthy, when the truth is that you are no more than a cast out.”

The image of Dallas, Texas appeared in the energy current between the spheres. Another batch of creatures disappeared from the past and re-appeared in the present.

Danny Washburn’s voice warned, “Soon your species will be wiped from time and space. Or belong to me.”

“That’s the only way for you. You can’t reproduce or evolve, so you conquer and subvert. You turn the living into the soulless dead. The only way you can expand your reach is by convincing the others to submit to you. Like I said, a master manipulator. But your puppets made a mistake last year, didn’t they?”

“You are wasting your time. Go now, or I will kill you.”

Jorgie scrunched close to his father who slung an arm around his boy’s shoulder. Trevor ignored the threat and continued, “A little of that good old human greed and ambition remained in those you mutated, enough so that your Missionary Man wanted to earn your favor. Taking me—that was for your amusement. You’ve been obsessed with hurting me since this began. But you did not count on my son. When the force of life inside this child’s body touched the great machines of Voggoth, what happened?”

“Go now!”

“He took control. He manipulated your tools. Life proved superior!”

Jorgie chimed in, “It was empty! YOU are empty!”

The thing that resembled Danny Washburn nearly glowed red with anger. Its eyes bulged to inhuman size. Its arms flailed in the air. And in a voice that cried out from the void it screamed, “I am older than the first atom of the universe! I am eternal! I—am—
a GOD!”

The body of Danny Washburn erupted and the thing hiding inside grew like an airbag exploding from a dashboard. It filled the room in a second, stretching from one side to the other of the massive hall; towering high between the two glowing orbs of enslaved Nyx.

A giant mass; a mountain of creature not quite solid, not quite liquid. A brown and black building-sized alien organism from the darkest hole of all existence. Its surface rippled and the faces of a trillion swallowed souls pushed against the flesh from the inside out, wailing a chorus composed by the devil himself.

The energy from the orbs filled the chamber in a brilliant glow. The giant creature hovered above father and son.

Voggoth.

22. A Line in the Sand

The Eagle air ship flew low and fast along the banks of the Mississippi River. To the east, clear blue skies and a low-hanging morning sun. To the west, a line of dark clouds rolling and rumbling like an incensed tide.

General Brewer and General Shepherd shared a row of seats while a small contingent of soldiers and technicians filled the remainder of the passenger compartment.

Jon stabbed his finger into the map on his lap and asked, “How did this happen?”

Jerry Shepherd could not be sure if Jon really wanted an answer. Nonetheless, he provided one.

“Lack of aerial recon. So many of those damned Spooks flying around we can’t get a horsefly close enough to spy what they’re doing. We’re damned lucky Cassy’s scouts saw it when they did.”

“Yeah, well, we’re going to need a lot more luck before this is over,” Jon grumbled without pulling his eyes from the map.

“I’ll see what I can whip up, General.”

Jon sighed, ran a hand over his face, and then turned to Shep to see the older gent with a half-cocked grin. He could not refuse to return it.

“We never get a break, do we?”

Shep told him, “I reckon it’d be too easy if we did. So we just got to roll with the punches,” and he patted Jon on the shoulder. “We’ll be there in a minute.”

‘There’ meant Quincy, Illinois, about 100 miles north of St. Louis on the eastern bank of the Mississippi. If humanity survived the day, Quincy would most certainly join the ranks of Waterloo, Gettysburg, Stalingrad, and Five Armies as history’s most important battlegrounds.

Shepherd asked, “So you figure ol’ Voggoth channeled Erwin Rommel or something? Getting fancy isn’t usually his style.”

“Yeah, well, he pulled a quick one at the Rockies so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. He tried to stretch us thin there. That’s what he’s trying to do now.”

“You’re not worried it’s a feint?”

Jon considered the possibility. But human eyes—from Cassy Simms’ Stonewall Brigade—spotted two Leviathans and a host of The Order’s core units crossing Route 63 north of Long Branch State Park just before dawn. Correspondingly, the last transmission from a Predator UAV identified the third Leviathan and a mass of Voggoth’s irregulars fording the Missouri river and moving east through the “Spirit of St. Louis” airport; about 20 miles from the Mississippi on the outskirts of the airport’s namesake.

“No, no,” Jon shook his head. “It’s a two-pronged attack. St. Louis and Quincy. I hoped he would come after our army in St. Louis and we could make this into a street fight. But wow, I didn’t figure him splitting up like this. Under most circumstances I’d see this as a blessing; nothing like a superior force dividing to improve our odds. But we don’t have enough troops to cover both areas. And up here—Quincy—it’s wide open. Perfect for the Leviathans.”

The transport ship descended.

Shep completed the thought, “So he hits us in both spots at about the same time.”

“You want my guess? If I’m Voggoth I beat up St. Louis to keep us pinned while I ram across the Mississippi up here then haul ass to the southeast to circle behind St. Louis. Hell, if he manages that he could finish us off by tomorrow afternoon.”