And It Arose from the Deepest Black (John Black Book 2) (23 page)

19

Navigating the landing was a challenge. Sigma tossed about like a firehose blasting water with no one holding on. Still, I gave it no thought whatsoever. For I didn’t think at all, not of anything. I was all action.

 

Somehow I shifted and reoriented in midair. Did the thorns in my cells release little blasts of propulsion like thrusters on a spaceship? Of course not, but it felt sort of like that.

 

I landed on top of Pip, reaching for her sword, wanting to pull it free. Sigma was my prize, and Pip wouldn’t take her from me.

 

As you can imagine, Pip was stunned. It’s safe to say that if I had leapt onto Sigma’s head and done a vaudeville tap dance, Pip probably would have been
less
surprised. The last thing she ever thought was that I would attack her. Try to
stop
her.

 

It was almost enough to make her let go of the sword. But not quite. She held on for life and death and victory, and because she probably didn’t know what else to do. I grabbed at the sword, both of us now clinging to the face of a 20-story beast as it shook and twisted, wanting nothing more than for us to be gone, for the pain to stop.

 

“What the hell are you doing, John?” Pip screamed.

 

In response, I shoved into her wordlessly with my shoulder, trying to dislodge her grip.

 

“Have you lost your
freaking
mind?” she yelled. She couldn’t believe what I was doing, and I don’t blame her. She caught a glimpse of my eyes, and that must have been enough to convince her that something was deeply wrong with me. She threw an elbow, knocking me away from the sword, then pushed with all her weight, driving the weapon in deeper. Sigma shrieked, still writhing.

 

I tried to pull the sword free. “Sigma is mine! You have no right!”

 

“No right?” she yelled. “What are you
talking
about?”

 

My grimace grew even more pained as I pulled at the sword. “You don’t belong here! Sigma is mine!”

 


Mine?
” she echoed. “Mine for what?”

 

For just a moment, my motions ceased. I looked Pip in the eye and could see what she thought of me.
She thinks I’m crazy. She’s probably righ
t
.

 

“Mine to kill,” I said, barely audible. With one hand I tightened my grip on Pip’s sword, and with the other holding my own sword aloft. Then I lurched into Pip, head-butting her and slamming my body into her shoulders, driving her off the Gorgol.

 

But Pip kept hold of her sword. It must have been something in her training, or maybe just her pure, stubborn desire, but she wouldn’t let the damn thing go.

 

What choice did I have?

 

I raised my sword-spear high, as Pip dangled from Sigma’s flopping head. She saw it coming, the thorns within her must have felt it. But how do you sluice out of the way of a falling sword when you’re hanging on for dear life by one hand?

 

One suddenly severed hand.

 

Her arm stretched, trying its best to bend around the blow, but it was impossible. I sliced through Pip’s arm, cutting midway between elbow and wrist.

 

I will never forget the look on her face as she fell away toward the ground. It was familiar. I had seen it, seen Pip herself look this way before. In the mirror. In the dream. The look she gave her own father, as smoke curled around his head in the small yellow bathroom. A look of trust lost. Of betrayal.

 

A part of me cared. Almost wept for what it was seeing.

 

But most of me didn’t. Most of me didn’t give it a second thought.

 

I turned, easily pulling Pip’s sword free now that her powers no longer strengthened it, and tossed the weapon and severed hand after her falling body. I nearly fell away myself, but quickly jabbed my sword-spear deep into the creature’s eye socket to renew my hold.

 

“I get to do this, not you.” The voice that rasped from my lips was almost unrecognizable.

 

Sigma shrieked again, stronger yet weaker, like it was the last thing she could muster. Her neck and head tossed, but in longer, slower arcs.

 

Death throes.

 

I drove my sword deeper.
Yes. Mine.

 

There was nothing in the world that could speak to me, pull me back from the insanity that was my desire to kill.

 

Sigma’s head turned, and, saddled to it like a bull rider at a rodeo, I went with it. The Gorgol sought something, then found it, steadying her gaze as best she could with one eye, in such pain.

 

She looked at Alpha, finally stilling her twisting neck.

 

Mother.

 

The idea came through me, through my arms, through the sword.

 

Again.

 

The engine of rage that I had become shattered. A wrecking ball smashed through me, destroying the wall of anger, hate, and viciousness that some part of me had erected. My rational self reemerged.

 

What have I done? How have I done this again?

 

Sigma faded. She started to fall.

 

I held onto the sword simply to avoid being flung to one side, but my energies dissipated and it began to shift back to normal. My mental push into Sigma’s brain shut down, and the few remaining tendrils of power I used to pull the heat from her body flittered away in the breeze like autumn leaves.

 

She fell, and I held on.

 

Again?

 

I could no longer trust myself. How could I? How could anyone? Certainly Pip wouldn’t.

 

Sigma dropped onto her side, with me on top still holding the sword protruding from her eye. Gorgol Sigma’s last act was to crush anything in her path of descent, landing with a deep bass note that echoed into the distance. Dust and dirt billowed in huge clouds.

 

As the air slowly cleared, I stood, and my sword melted back into a crappy leather belt. I let it hang, almost forgotten by my side, as I stood atop the creature I had killed.

 

Sigma, like Omicron before her, looked lonely and pathetic and sad in death. No strength, no life force. Nothing but an energy gone, the doors of many possibilities now closed.

 

Like Sigma’s fire, my rage was gone, with no hint remaining, almost as if it had never been there. Just as it had with Omicron, the anger died away with the beast.

 

And I cried.

 

As the tears slid down my cheeks, some touched my lips. In the salt, I could taste guilt. It tasted familiar.

 

The ground shook and the sound of rumbling footsteps approached as a shadow fell over me.

 

Slowly looking up, I saw Gorgol Alpha, and I welcomed the vengeance the mother no doubt was about to lay upon me.

 

I really won’t fight this time. I can’t. I deserve to die.

 

20

Jake sat high on one of Alpha’s shoulders.

 

The look on the Gorgol mother’s face was almost worse than what I had seen on Pip’s. Anger. Loss. Betrayal. Fear. And, more than anything, an emptiness. Was that from Jake, because he’d taken over her mind? Or was Alpha now left empty? I thought both. But mostly, I thought she was hollow because of me.

 

“There he is, the very embodiment of the word
liar
,” Jake called from above. Behind him, the shifting forms of several helicopters hovered, jockeying for the best camera angles. Apart from their distant thumping, the only sound was Jake’s shouting voice.

 

I had no answer. What answer could I give? I’d told Jake I didn’t want to fight. Didn’t want to kill the Gorgols. And yet, there I stood, over the body of the second Gorgol I’d slain.

 

“You think you’re more important than they are, don’t you? That your wants and needs and desires are bigger, more special. More powerful.”

 

I shook my head. I didn’t think I was all that important, not usually, and definitely not at that moment. Rather, I felt like about the lowest piece of scum possible. I realized that, with my black mask still on, Jake couldn’t see my face, my tears, couldn’t read my expressions. “No,” I said with a wavering voice. “I don’t think that.” I doubted it was loud enough for him to hear from so far above, but maybe Jake had enhanced his hearing or reached out with his mind. Because he definitely heard me.

 


Liar
. Just still your tongue. You’ve done enough with your actions for a lifetime of words. You’re true self is clear to me.”

 

“No,” I repeated, weakly.

 

“You are a perfect example of the human race, did you know that? This…” Jake looked around, exasperated. “This world of people is at direct odds with the natural world. But I’ll give you this. Humans have an almost limitless ability to destroy. It would truly be impressive, if it weren’t so damned horrible. You flatter yourselves about your creations, your civilization, your accomplishments, but you sweep the true nature of humanity under the rug.”

 

“What?”

 

“Don’t pretend not to understand. Human civilization is a parasite living off the natural world. And the Gorgols came to eradicate the problem, to pluck the parasite from its host. But you…” Jake glowered at me. “You come along and step in the way. Because you think you’re special.”

 

“I didn’t mean to…”

 

“Enough of your lies, now. I see who you really are. I know your soul now. I feel like I’ve known it for too long, more than a lifetime. I can feel it, like your treachery is a part of me.”

 

What was Jake talking about?
I
was a perfect example of the human race? My treachery was a part of him? A flash appeared in my mind. Were our minds connected? I saw a horse, rearing up. Just for a moment, then it was gone. What. The. Hell?

 

Still, what counterargument could I muster? It wasn’t like I
hadn’t
just killed Gorgol number two. But I had to say something. “Jake,” I called up to him. “I know how this looks. But it’s not me.” He scoffed but let me continue. “Or at least it’s not who I want to be. These powers…” I looked at my hands like they belonged to someone else. “They do things. I don’t just mean they
can
do things, but they do things
to
you. To me. I did something just now that I’m not proud of, that isn’t me. I can’t explain it, but it isn’t me. And, Jake, you know we both have these powers. We’re alike.”

 

Jake couldn’t control his disdain. “
Alike
? Hardly.” He held out one hand, touching the stony scales of Alpha’s shoulder. The Gorgol — the last Gorgol — stood motionless, but I felt her tension, like a shudder, stemming from the touch. She was a wire, pulled to the snapping point. I didn’t know if Jake could truly control her much longer. “You and I couldn’t be more different.
I
fight for the mothers. For the Gorgols and the world.”

 

That was enough to raise something out of me, at last. “For them? Don’t kid yourself, Jake. You control Alpha against her will. You don’t fight for her. You enslave her.”

 

Jake’s face reddened. Even from such a distance, I could see it. Then, taking a moment, he calmed himself. “I like the mask you wear. That you all wear.”

 

I was suddenly aware that Bobby and Pip were there, standing to each side. Near enough to make a combined front, but notably separate. We were three, and we opposed Jake, but we weren’t a team. Not anymore. Not after what I’d done.

 

I mean, Pip’s right arm ended in a stump just below her elbow. Healing powers or not, that’s gonna piss a person off.

 

“Masks are an interesting thing, are they not? Sometimes we all wear masks.” Jake began pontificating again. It seemed out of place and random, like his personality had shifted again. “We all use masks of one kind or another, hiding who we are. But why? Is it because we do not feel sufficient in ourselves to reveal who we really are?” He looked to us each in turn. “Or perhaps we use them to hide not our self, but those around us. Those dear to us.” Then Jake looked only at me. “As you can see, I wear no mask whatsoever. Who I am is plain to see before you. I am no mystery. But you all…? Perhaps the people watching us from above —” Jake gestured toward the hovering helicopters “— would like to know who you
really
are, all of you. Know your
names
.” He let the threat linger.

 

Did it matter? Was there a normal life to go back to? Our world was peppered with strange powers and stranger creatures. Did I care if the evening news knew that
Black Sword
was really John Black?

 

Yes. Yes, somehow I did.

 

Because I think that was the only thing that made everything worthwhile, the idea that maybe when we were done, we could go back to a normal life. In fact, if anything, the powers made me appreciate my normal life so much more. Before I had power, I longed for something more, a bigger life. With them, I longed for something… I don’t know. Less? Not less, in terms of less interesting or less fun or less quality or less important. But less…
complicate
d
.

 

I thought of my mom, laughing at a joke as she cooked breakfast. Of Holly and I, touching foreheads to say hello. Of sipping awful coffee drinks with Carrie McGregor.

 

I suddenly realized how important those things were to me. And remembering the hell of the paparazzi that we’d already experienced once, how they caused Holly pain on a daily basis. I didn’t want to go back to that. I didn’t want the other things taken away from me. Didn’t want to lose my normal.

 

But what could I do? Launch an attack on Jake? Kill Alpha, too?

 

Death was an anchor, tied to my neck, and I had already been swimming a long, long time.

 

No
, I thought.
Something simpler
. I reached out gently with my mind, toward Jake.

 

I only wanted to nudge him. End the confrontation. I could think of an actual plan to deal with Jake and Alpha later. I just needed time. Armed with my new knowledge of what really mattered to me, this time, I thought I could come up with something that would work. Because an idea — or at least the nugget of an idea — was born in my head. I thought I knew what to do about Gorgol Alpha.

 

With Jake in control, though, we were at an impasse. I tried to gently push him to stand down.

 

Slowly and carefully, my mind reached into his. I felt his anger, and a healthy amount of fear. Fear of me, and Bobby, and Pip, all arrayed below him.

 

Still, I tried not to explore Jake’s mind. I just needed to plant an idea.

 

This is not the time. Alpha is ready to snap. You need to change that.

 

I knew Alpha was close to her breaking point, and wanted Jake to use his influence over her to pull back.

 

Change Alpha.

 

At first, nothing happened, and I feared I would be unsuccessful. To each side, I could feel Bobby and Pip tense for more fighting.

 

The image came into my mind again, through the connection with Jake. The horse. Motionless, amid the chaos of a city.

 

Then, words came, too. Deep, resonant words I heard silently in my head.

 

Yes, change.

 

From high above, Jake’s voice called out again. “No, I think I will leave you as I found you, this time at least. It’s time for a change.” Under Jake’s control, Alpha’s lumbering body began to turn away.

 

Bobby, Pip, and I just stood and watched as they left.

 

Looking back, Jake called out, one last time. “Because change is good.”

 

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