Nicholas Smith - Ghosts

“ Shit ,” Weaver muttered. He pulled back the action to clear the round as the Siren sailed toward them, talons reaching.

“Shoot it, Rodger!” Weaver said.

Rodger fired, and the Siren veered off course, shrieking angrily. Weaver worked to free the round, but it was jammed diagonally against the bore. Across the plant, the winged giant was wheeling to make another pass at them. Below, a dozen beasts were running across the floor and climbing over the platforms.

Rodger’s gun went silent, and he pulled the blade from Weaver’s sheath. “I’m out!” he yelled.

The jammed round finally popped out of the carbine, and Weaver took down two more of the approaching pack with body shots and maimed a third before training the gun back on the creature in the air.

Ejecting the spent magazine, he dropped to one knee, slapped in the fresh magazine, and fired off a burst. All three shots hit the ceiling. He had to lead the beast more.

He squeezed the trigger again, hitting a wing, but the rounds weren’t enough to bring this one down. And this time there was no escaping.

More Sirens were charging toward them. In seconds, their claws and teeth would tear both Weaver and Rodger into confetti.

“Get down!” a voice shouted.

Weaver turned to see three figures race into the room. Muzzle flashes dazzled his eyes. He bumped off the optics and hit the deck.

Rounds cut through the humid air, punching through mutant flesh and bone. In seconds, the remaining monsters were retreating. Weaver could even hear the beast in the air flapping madly for the exit.

“Rodger!” Magnolia shouted. She ran over and embraced him, her helmet clacking against his.

“Oh, sorry,” she said when he yelped. “Oh, shit, are you hurt?”

“It’s okay. I’m happy to see you, too, Mags.”

“Thanks for the save,” Weaver said, “but we don’t have time for a reunion. We need to beat it before those things go get some friends.”

Michael hesitated even as the others moved, and Weaver quickly saw why. The beam of his headlamp had captured the remains of the diver they had been too late to save. Weaver put a hand on the young commander’s shoulder and said a silent goodbye to Andrew before they turned and ran for the stairs.

Michael was more than ready to leave the Hilltop Bastion behind. Maybe there was a facility somewhere deep underground that wasn’t inhabited by monsters—a place that could safely house the people of the Hive for generations until the surface was habitable again. But ITC Communal 13 was not that place.

“Man, you guys should’ve heard Rodger,” Weaver was saying. “He offered to build those things a better nest!”

Magnolia let out a cross between a laugh and a snort.

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Layla said. “He once offered to build me a better boyfriend.”

Michael grinned, but it didn’t last. They were still alive, but with no real plan for what came next.

Handle your present with confidence. Face your future without fear.

The divers hurried down the passage, gear clanking and lights cutting through the darkness.

“You said Jordan put Janga in the stockade?” Weaver asked Layla.

She nodded solemnly. “He had her arrested earlier. I just hope he didn’t hurt her.”

“I guess her gift of prophecy wasn’t real after all, or she would have seen it coming. She said a man from the surface would lead us to the promised land. A place that’s under water, or something. I can’t believe I actually bought into—”

“That’s it,” Michael said, interrupting Weaver. “She was talking about X, don’t you see? We have to go find him.”

“What do you mean, kid?”

“Janga knew about X all along. She hid that information inside some crazy prophecy, both to protect it and to get people to pass it on. She knew that if he could survive down here, then maybe he could show us how to survive, too.”

“Shit, he’s got a point,” Magnolia said.

Weaver shook his head. “Have I ever told you you’re all nuts?”

“It’s a job requirement,” Rodger said.

“Fair enough,” Weaver said. He stopped just outside the hangar door and lowered his rifle. “We’ll finish this conversation later.”

Weaver grabbed the door handle, and as he opened it, an orange glow flooded the hallway.

“Watch out!” Magnolia shouted a moment too late.

On the other side of the door stood a giant skinless beast out of a fever dream. Swollen muscles flashed orange across a body as wide as the doorframe. Looming a good two feet over Weaver, it tilted its nightmarish face down at him, snuffling and opening a bony jaw rimmed with yellow teeth the size of sheath knives.

Weaver staggered backward as the other divers screamed a warning. But before he could bring up his rifle, the creature reached out an enormous, black-taloned hand and clamped it around the commander’s helmet. He dropped his gun and grabbed the beast’s wrists as it plucked him off the ground, feet kicking.

Michael moved to the side and fired a shot into the monster’s chest. It let out a frenzied roar and squeezed its hands together. Every muscle flashed and flexed as it pushed in on Weaver’s helmet.

There was no scream or cry—just the crack of metal, glass, and bone as the diver’s helmet caved in like a tin can in a vice.

It all happened so fast that the world seemed to grind to an agonizing halt as Weaver’s limp body collapsed to the floor in a heap. Michael could hear Magnolia’s screams, and he could see the rounds cutting through the monster’s flesh, but the bullets weren’t from his rifle. He seemed unable to move.

Layla fired her carbine, and Magnolia was emptying her magazine into the beast. Shell casings fell into the puddle of Weaver’s blood that spread across the floor.

The abomination slapped Magnolia’s gun away and picked her up by the throat with one paw. Michael finally snapped out of his trance and reached for his blaster.

Rodger had the same idea. He pulled Weaver’s blaster from his holster and pushed it to the bony head of the monster.

The buckshot slammed into the creature’s skull, cracking through bone and into brain. It dropped Magnolia and stumbled back into the wall, a wedge of its head missing. Letting out a final grunt, the beast crashed to the floor with a thud that shook the corridor.

Rodger hurried over to Magnolia as she scooted away on her butt.

“Weaver,” she choked. “Where…?”

“He’s gone,” Michael said. He grabbed Layla’s hand, and Rodger helped Magnolia to her feet. They ran past the monster, and all looked down as they walked through the blood surrounding Weaver’s crushed helmet. There was nothing they could do for him now but honor his memory.

As soon as they were inside the room, Timothy’s hologram appeared.

“Why didn’t you warn us?” Magnolia shouted.

“I am sorry, but I had transferred my program to the ship. When I detected the gunshots, I—”

“Just get us the hell out of here!” Michael shouted.

They ran up the metal platform into the ship. This craft was perhaps a third smaller than the Hive , but the most striking difference was that everything here was new. Dusty plastic covered the upholstery, and nothing was patched or dinged.

Timothy sealed the door behind them.

“Is there anything on board that we need to be aware of?” Layla asked. “Any monsters you’ve forgotten to mention?”

“There are only four life forms present,” Timothy said. “Follow this light strip to the bridge. I will join you there.”

They ran down a long hallway that ended at a circular steel door. Timothy was already waiting there. He raised a hand as the doors parted, revealing a bridge fitted with more advanced computer technology and control panels than Michael had ever seen. The operations room was furnished with metal stations and a single steering wheel. Control panels were already flashing, and a mounted monitor taking up an entire wall came online with the view above them.