Upgrade (57 page)

Zacharies looked where Miles was pointing.
 
“What did you see?”

“That man,” said Miles.

Obie turned to the street, nodding.
 
“I see him.
 
Link’s down.”

“What?”

“Quiet,” said Mike.
 
“See that clown over there?
 
In the doorway?”

Zacharies looked closer, saw a man in a doorway.
 
He was swaying on his feet, gentle and smooth like a tree in a light wind.
 
Zacharies couldn’t be sure, but the man’s eyes looked white, as if they’d rolled back into his head.
 
He swallowed, then said, “Mike?”

“Yeah, kid.”

“That man?”

“Yeah, kid.”

“He’s
woken up
,” said Zacharies.
 
“Any second now—”

“Got another,” said Obie.
 
“Across the street.
 
In the fried chicken place.”

“It’s not chicken,” said Miles.
 
“I’ve eaten there a couple times—”

“I see him,” said Mike.
 
He turned to Zacharies.
 
“Zach?”

“Yes.”
 
Zacharies was watching the two men, feeling something cold forming in his stomach.
 
At least there’s only two
.

“The problem we got here is that those two guys have a link, but they’ve turned it off.
 
They’re not affiliated.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Usually,” said Mike, pulling a large sidearm from under his jacket and pulling the slider back with a click and a whine, “it means they’re criminals about to—”

“Movement,” said Obie.
 
“Fifth floor.
 
Fire escape.
 
One o’clock.”

“I see him,” said Miles.
 
“What’s up with their eyes?”

Zacharies watched as Obie and Miles went shoulder to shoulder, unslinging assault rifles.
 
They held them with exact precision, the barrels pointed out into the street.
 
Somewhere a woman screamed, the crowd noticing, a second before —

Oh no
.

The man from the fire escape howled, grabbed the railing with a hand, and vaulted over the side.
 
He fell like a rock.
 
Zacharies heard the impact, one of the man’s knees giving way as he stumbled forward into the street.

“Mike,” said Zacharies.
 
“Mike, we must run.”

“What?”
 
Mike turned away from the street, then his eyes widened.
 
The sidearm came up beside Zacharies, the weapon roaring, something white and hot blasting past the side of Zacharies’ head.

Zacharies turned to see the remains of the man who’d been sleeping in the doorway behind them stagger, his head and shoulders carved away in a perfect half circle down to his sternum.
 
The body slumped backwards.
 
He turned back to Mike.
 
“Thank you—”

Mike had already turned away, back to the street.
 
Something passed between him and the two Metatech enforcers, and Miles and Obie sighted along their rifles and fired.
 
There was a soft sound from the rifles as light lased out, red and angry, Obie firing at the man in the fried chicken place, Miles taking out the man in the doorway opposite.
 
Zacharies couldn’t see how they’d done it, to shoot so cleanly through the street full of people and hit nothing but their targets.

The lasers pierced the flesh of the men’s chests, and something red boiled and burst out their backs.
 
Two perfect hits, and…

“Fuck me,” said Obie.

“No,” said Miles.
 
“Fuck me.”

The two men’s heads turned towards them, sightless eyes seeking.
 
Smoke peeled away from their chests, the edges of the wounds cauterized as they stepped towards them, the panic of the crowd raging around them.

Mike stepped forward, sidearm raised.
 
He fired three times, white plasma crackling out across the road.
 
The first two shots came quickly, the third a moment later as he waited for a gap in the crowd.
 
The sidearm chewed the top half off of the men in the street, and three bodies fell to the road.
 
He turned back to the enforcers.
 
“Head shots only.”

“Copy that,” said Miles.
 
Obie nodded, weapon still raised and pointed out to the street.

“I don’t understand,” said Zacharies.
 
He hadn’t moved, turning to look back at the remains of the man slumped behind him.

“What’s not to understand?” said Mike.
 
“Drug gone bad.
 
No wonder it’s not backed by a syndicate.”

“Yeah,” said Obie.
 
“You hear about this kind of thing.
 
Clinical trials take too long, so—”

“Ship it out to the black market,” cut in Miles.
 
Obie sighed, but Miles ignored him.
 
“See what happens on the street.”

“No,” said Zacharies.
 
“That’s not what I don’t understand.”

“What is it, kid?”
 
Mike was checking his sidearm, sighting down the short barrel, then he shoved it back under his jacket.

“We came out here because…”
 
Zacharies frowned.
 
“You told me about the new drug.”

“Yeah,” said Mike.
 
“You told me not to take any.
 
I see why.”

“No,” said Zacharies.
 
“That’s not it.
 
The thing with the master, is…”
 
He frowned.
 
“Why are there only four of them?”

“What?”
 
Mike frowned.
 
“I don’t get it.”

“It’s not how they work,” said Zacharies.
 
“The master would only do this if…
 
If he could turn many more people.”

Obie’s head turned down the street, the crowd having dispersed.
 
“You hear that?”

Miles nodded.
 
“I hear it.
 
It sounds like…
 
Rain, or something.”

“Many more,” said Zacharies.
 
“It’s not rain.”

“It’s not?” said Mike.

“No,” said Zacharies.
 
He walked out into the street, stretching his neck form side to side.
 
He looked back over his shoulder at the three Metatech men.
 
“It’s an army.”

A woman, a white apron still tied around her, came sprinting around the corner about a block up.
 
Her head moved from side to side, sightless eyes staring, then she turned to them.
 
She screamed and started running towards them.

“This doesn’t look so bad,” said Miles.

That’s when the rest poured around the corner, like beetles from a jar.
 
Zacharies took a step back.
 
There weren’t four.
 
There weren’t ten.
 
There were fifty.
 
A hundred.

The slapping of their sprinting feet sounded like rain on the earth, before it was drowned out as their screaming filled the air.

⚔ ⚛ ⚔

Zacharies held a hand to the side of his head, his fingers coming back red and sticky.
 
It must have been from when Mike shot the —

Seeker.
 
Seekers are here.

— man behind him in the doorway.
 
He shook his head, then looked up at the bodies littering the street in front of him.
 
The woman with the apron was there, torso sheared from her legs by a laser.
 
The man behind her, his Toys ‘R’ Us uniform yellow with smears of red and black.
 
The remains of a child, the head missing, its hand still clutching at a plastic doll.

It had happened faster than thought, the three Metatech men moving and firing together like they shared a single mind.
 
Bodies had burned, exploded, spun, and died.

“There will be more.”
 
Zacharies touched his ear again, then looked at Mike.
 
“This is just the beginning.”

Obie was on one knee in the street, laser rifle sighted down over the bodies.
 
“More?”
 
He ejected a black rectangle from the bottom of his weapon, the battery trailing smoke as it bounced and clattered on the street.
 
He slapped a fresh one into the rifle, the weapon cycling lights along its length, coming alive with a soft breath, the chuff of a hunting cat.

Mike held his sidearm low, turning between the bodies and Zacharies.
 
“Zach?
 
What just happened?”

“Yeah,” said Miles.
 
“I ain’t never seen a drug like that.”

“It’s the demon,” said Zacharies.

“Ok,” said Miles.
 
He glanced at Obie, the other man shaking his head.
 
“Demon?”

“Demon,” said Zacharies.
 
He held a hand out down the street.
 
“We call them
seekers
.”

“Seekers,” said Mike.
 
“This isn’t a morningtown ride, kid.”

Zacharies blinked.
 
“No, it’s not a ride, Mike.
 
It’s the…
 
It’s how they
find you
.”

Miles turned to Zacharies, leaning his rifle against a shoulder.
 
“Right,” he said.
 
“They found us.”
 
He looked down the street, then back at Zacharies.
 
“What was the point?”

Zacharies felt something helpless touch at him, pushed it back down.
 
“The master is trying to take over Heaven and all of its people.
 
He has a water demon.”

“Water, right,” said Mike.
 
“Like the rain.”

“Like your blood,” said Zacharies.
 
He paused for a few seconds, letting that sink in.
 
“The demon can live anywhere there is water.
 
It’s how it spreads, from person to person.
 
They sacked the city of Abinal when I was…
 
I was younger, then.”

“Abinal?”
 
Zacharies could see Obie’s frown in the set of his jaw.
 
“That a place?”

“Not anymore,” said Zacharies.
 
“Not here.
 
It’s where Laia was born.
 
The rain came first, and those who couldn’t get out from under it became seekers first.
 
They spread it.
 
A kiss.
 
A shared cup of tea, served hot and sweet in the garden bars of the upper town.”
 
He held out a hand to the sidewalk, the vial white against the dirty concrete.
 
“Drugs of any kind, as long as they have water.
 
Sex.
 
And for all that’s left, for the loveless and the friendless, who have no happiness to share with friends or family, a bite into flesh.”

“Hold up,” said Mike.
 
He glanced down the street, then at Obie and Miles.
 
“Obie?
 
Up the end of the street where those freaks came from.
 
Miles.
 
Other end.”

The two men nodded, jogging off in separate directions.
 
Mike watched Obie’s back for a moment, then turned back to Zacharies.
 
“Before your master arrived—”

“Before the rift into Heaven.”

“Ok, sure.
 
Before the rift.
 
Whatever.
 
Before he arrived,” said Mike, “the rain just made people see shit.”

“The demon is its own thing, and a part of the master at the same time,” said Zacharies.
 
“Without the master to guide it, it is…”
 
He stopped, thinking.
 
“It’s like a child without a teacher.
 
Thoughtless, willful.”

“Lotta people saw shit.
 
Weird shit,” said Mike.

“Yes,” said Zacharies.
 
“I think they might have.”

“How do you avoid it?”
 
Mike took a step closer, looking into Zacharies’ face.
 
“How have you lived with it?”

“The master used different tools on us,” said Zacharies, turning away.
 
“He uses himself.”

He could hear Mike shift behind him before his friend spoke again.
 
“What’s that mean, Zach?
 
What did he do?”

“Pray you never find out,” said Zacharies, thinking of Laia and the way she cried out in the night.
 
He turned back to Mike.
 
“Do you pray?”

“No,” said Mike.

“Neither do I,” said Zacharies.
 
“Your gods and angels have never answered.
 
I thought perhaps here, they might hear your voices clearly, without the barrier of distance.”

“No,” said Mike.
 
“God checked out a long time ago.”
 
He sighed.
 
“You said there would be more?”

“Usually,” said Zacharies.
 
“It’s like a sickness.
 
It spreads.
 
It needs a little time to…”
 
He groped for the right word in this language, the link tapping at the back of his mind.
 
“Reconfigure.”

“How many more?”
 
Mike frowned.
 
“How long does it take?”

“Abinal was a mighty city, a full half a million souls.
 
A cadre of no less than seven hundred Wardens guarded the hearts and minds of its citizens.
 
It fell completely in three days.”