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Authors: Ewan Sinclair

Tags: #horror, #mystery, #apocalypse, #satire

An Obsidian Sky (19 page)

BOOK: An Obsidian Sky
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After taking
in the sights we slowly inched our way towards the tram. I jumped
down from the station and onto the tracks. The short grooves
catching at my feet as I crossed over to the tram. Aeniah was still
in front. She had her gun held in a grip so tight I was certain
that it would shatter. But the ancient device kept on working.

With a
tremendous kick of her right leg she broke open the tram door.
There was no noise inside. The lights on the tram flickered in
anger at the intrusion. There was still too little light to see
clearly. The silence pervaded everything, it seemed to impress
itself upon you, make you really fear. Aeniah had disappeared into
the tram, the glass was too burned to make her out clearly.

I moved up the
steps and into it. The smell inside was awful. Almost predictably I
saw the bodies, each in a frozen position of terror. These bodies
appeared to have been cut and slashed and not burnt. There was no
motion. The smell, however, did not seem to be coming from the
bodies, they had been flash frozen in the station when Ascension
powered down. Instead the stench seemed to be coming from one of
the forward carriages. Aeniah motioned for me to go first. The
others were only just making their way onto the tram.

I placed my
fingers on top of the handle. Ever so gently I massaged the handle
down. It let out just the faintest of squeaks. Almost as if in slow
motion I pushed the firmly shut door open. It moved without grace,
but thankfully without sound. My hand retreated quickly but
silently. I raised my lancer back to my shoulder and stared down
the scope.

Instantly I
saw what was creating the stench. A body ahead had become extremely
bloated through a process of decay I did not understand. The levels
of putrefaction were far more advanced than any of the other bodies
that I had encountered. I knew that the body was dead, stone dead,
at least until I saw it move.

A faint twitch
perhaps, perhaps it was nothing. I squeezed my fingers a little
more firmly around the trigger. I should have been a mad man, it
would have made life easier. Then there was another much more
obvious twitch. My heart burnt with fear. Then whole body shook and
released more of that foul odour. Perhaps it was some totally
explainable phenomena, like severed heads that keep on talking. But
again it twitched. The sight was beginning to unnerve me. Then its
arm twitched twice and then flexed itself. This was no dead
thing.

The bloated
corpse raised itself to its feat giving out a tremendous screech as
it did so. In terror I pulled the trigger. The corpse was still
facing away from me. But it did not fall. I pulled the trigger
again, and to my horror saw nothing happen. Neither shot had fired.
Now the corpse was beginning to turn as if sensing my presence. I
desperately continued to squeeze the trigger. I hammered away at it
with my finger but it simply would not respond.

Then I saw its
face. The face was something that simply could not have belonged to
a human being, and yet it was so very human. His eyes bulged. His
face was puffy and yellow. The lips were dry and had receded to the
point that there was no longer a chance of the upper and lower ever
meeting. On his chest was a huge wound which had long ago stained
his sweater. The dried blood was so old that it was almost black
and was flaking off. I had no idea how this figure remained
standing without even any blood coursing through his veins.

His huge
yellow eyes finally locked onto me. The disgusting lips twitched
upwards in an attempt at a smile. But the muscle was so wasted that
only the faintest twitch at the corners could be observed. I pulled
the trigger again but nothing happened. He began to stumble towards
me in an almost comical fashion.

Those huge
inflated arms came towards me. I rammed my lancer into the
creatures face. But with so much damage already inflicted upon the
creature I knew that this would cause little more than a
distraction to his murderous rampage. Behind me Aeniah was
swearing, her pistol had also failed to fire. I was by myself, the
narrowness of the tram prevented Aeniah from getting ahead of
me.

He closed his
hand against my shoulder, I desperately pulled back trying to get
free. He was too strong, even with such a level of muscle decay. I
kicked out getting him in the stomach and he released me. I ran
backwards as fast as I was able in the narrow confines of the tram.
He began to lurch forward drunkenly again. There was little I could
do now to prevent the inevitable. He was so close I could smell the
necrotic stench of his breathe.

To my right
glass shattered and the creature was hit by a hundred holes. A
second later and my mind processed the sound of automatic rifle
fire. The rifle fire stopped. I looked out of the broken window to
my right and saw Abigail smiling at me. She was holding her large
black assault rifle casually. I smiled my thanks but something
whacked into the back of my head.

I was on the
ground now. I could not see much from the floor but the feet of the
corpse. With shock I realised, from the orientation of his feet,
that he was still standing, no, moving. I could hear more automatic
fire and then heard the unmistakable thud of the creature again
hitting the deck. There was a second thud. I strained my eyes to
see that the second thud was the sound of the creature's head
impacting the floor. Its blood was yellow.

I was still
too dizzy to stand, but I knew that the rifle fire must have been
sustained for such a long period of time that it would have
severed, piece by piece, the creature’s head. This had definitely
prevented any further movement. There was something else that
occurred to me and it was that if just one bloated figure took this
long to kill, how on earth we were supposed to be able to get all
the way to the Centre for Administration and then to a Xenith class
vessel. In short, we were going to die.

As I was on
the ground I began to hear voices, loads of them. My vision began
to wash away. Colour drained itself from my surroundings. I got
gingerly to my feet. The colour was beginning to flood back into
the world. In that moment I realised that I was having yet another
vision of the past. With frustration I wondered why these visions
only seemed to come right in the middle of the most dangerous parts
of my journey.

All around the
tram there were people waiting and bustling. The bright gold
filigree of the tram reflected off all the surfaces of the station.
The station itself was bright and gleaming. Sparkling gold rails
added a wintery texture to the surroundings. The clothing of the
commuters was of a strange composition. In Bataga I was used to a
plethora of cultures, each wearing incredibly differing garments.
And yet here there was very little in the way of radically
differing styles. I also noticed that many of the women on the
platform wore the same strange garments as Blue Dawn. Instead of
being divided into trouser legs they simply continued down as one.
Furling outwards or slashed along the side they ran down to
differing heights. Some left little to the imagination, others
trailed across the floor.

Some of the
commuters had a strange sort of holo floating around their eyes. It
seemed to display media of some description. The crowd seemed to
bustle and heave. Everyone was weary. Two angels waited at the
station. Each of the crowd would touch a part of them and gasp in
rapture. Some would correct cosmetic errors on their faces with the
Promethean Layer, others would use it to lift their heavy bags onto
the trains. All the while the angels endured their jostling and
pushing without expression. The impatience of the commuters seemed
to manifest itself in the rough treatment of the Equinox subjects.
Around the angel's shoulders was a sash which contained the words
empower yourselves, empower the people
.

For one reason
or another one of the angels seemed to refuse one man access. ‘What
the hell. You, Equinox, supply now!’ But still the angel resisted.
The man drew a firearm and placed it against the angel’s head, he
spoke coldly. ‘Provide me access, I command you.’ He was sweating
from his forehead. His hands were shaking and the gun would not
stay level.

The angel
whispered something into his ear. I should not have been able to
hear it from this distance but it seemed that I could hear despite
the void between us. ‘For everything there is a price. For the
power of a god the price is always the highest. He will take away
your soul.’ And then the angel bowed her head. A fraction of a
second later the gunman blew her brains out. The crowd cheered in
euphoria. A single tear dripped from the other angel’s eyes as she
saw her sister fall. In the background, just for a second, I heard
a man cry out. I spun to find him, but could not. Scanning the
crowd I saw him, at last. He was obvious only because he had not
joined in with the cheering. Next to him was a woman of great
height and her face displayed an expression such as one who had
just witnessed true evil for the first time. I saw that expression
again and again in the faces of those in the crowd, but there were
so few of them.

As the tall
woman and the man who cried out reached the platform I watched them
intently. They both placed their hands into the angel's and kissed
her on the cheek. The other commuters seemed not to notice. And
then they did something curious. The woman, with the greatest of
stealth, took a syringe from her pocket. Hiding it with her open
palm she placed it into the angel's side and depressed the plunger.
The angel closed its eyes and gazed upon them with thanks. In a
moment, almost without me noticing, the two had disappeared. I
scanned my eyes to find them and saw them leaving the station. I
looked around the crowd to find any of the others that I had seen
in silent protest. I could see none of them. It appeared that they
had all left station. I wondered where they had gone.

The vision
ended its little sequence. The characters in this ethereal play
ceased their motions, suspended forever in time. The sound drained,
sucked away forever, into the past. These visions did not belong in
my memory, they belonged to the dead. It was so strange to take
these memories from them. In the final moments of the visions
conclusion I saw something amazing. The once damaged and beaten
angel glistened with light. A rainbow of patterns shone all over
her. And with a smile she outstretched her snow white wings, as
raindrops that shimmered like rainbows bounced upon her feathers.
She raised her triumphant head and soared into the sky. And with
that the vision truly ended.

My head was on
fire, it throbbed as though I had drunk an exceptional quantity of
alcohol the night before. When the throbbing gradually diminished I
gently eased myself onto my knees, and without any speed at all
heaved myself to my feet. But the ground was uneven and I staggered
once I had reached my summit. I turned to look through the broken
glass and found that the train had already begun to move. A
disembodied voice announced ‘welcome to Greenline interlink
tramways. Your next station is Integral Plaza. This service will
terminate at the Grand Concourse, Commercial District. Casting is
prohibited within the confines of this tram. We hope that you enjoy
your ride.’

A guy tapped
me on the shoulder. I turned to face him. It was Kolven. Harris and
Abigail were huddled together on one of the trams seats, despite
the temperature being relatively mild. Aeniah and Sean were visible
in the driver's compartment talking in whispers.

‘You okay
buddy?’ Kolven asked. I nodded in response. ‘Say, George right?’
Again I nodded. ‘You don’t think you could use some of that magic,
what Blue Dawn was going on about, to get us out of here? I mean, I
just wanna go home, you gotta take me there. Right? You got it? I
can’t die here man.’ He was squeezing me quite tightly.

I was fairly
nervous but tried to keep my voice calm and kind. ‘Kolven, this
ability doesn’t work like that. I know you really want to go home,
but I can't take you there. It just doesn't work like that.’

Kolven pushed
me. ‘No, you don’t understand buddy,’ his voice had taken one a
wild texture. ‘I can’t stay here much longer. You get me? I can’t
cope for much longer. I want out. I want my home. Take me home
George, take me home.’

I softened my
voice, just a touch. ‘You do remember, don’t you Kovlen? Earth was
destroyed. You have no home. Home is right here with us. We are
here to make ourselves a new home. But first that home has to be
free from the effects of the artefact. You do understand don’t
you?’

But Kolven
could not be reasoned with. He began to rave about getting the fuck
out of here. Aeniah had been distracted by this and had wandered up
next to him at a violent pace. But as she got there he suddenly
fell silent and just stared off into the distance. ‘That’s better,’
said Aeniah. She was about to turn around and go back to the
drivers compartment when an expression crossed her face.

‘Kolven?’ she
enquired. ‘Kolven can you hear me?’ But there was no response.
Aeniah moved towards the figure that was now standing perfectly
still. His face had gained a sort of transparent mesmerised
complexion to it. There was a small amount of saliva tracing its
way from the corner of his mouth on an inexorable path to the
ground.

‘I think he
might be gone, Aeniah,’ I whispered.

Aeniah raised
her gun to his temple. His eyes did not even track towards the
weapon. He did not even seem to breathe any longer. She placed her
lips against his lips and kissed him. Kolven seemed to sag a
little, as if some invisible substance had been drawn from him.
‘Forgive me,’ Aeniah whispered. She turned the pistol to its lowest
setting and with great regret pulled the trigger. There was no
mess, only the tiniest of holes perforated Kolven’s skull. He
stayed on his knees for a while before he rolled over onto the
ground.

BOOK: An Obsidian Sky
12.84Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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