As they approached the hospital in a whine of deceleration, The Priest’s voice rattled over the comm. ‘There’s something going on down there ...’
Mongrel squinted. ‘What?’
‘Shit,’ hissed Carter, flicking free the safety on his Browning and gazing down with a look of horror. Shapes were sprinting across the wet tarmac, black shells glistening. Several halted, triangular heads turning to examine the helicopter—
‘MiniGun?’ requested Mongrel, grinning wickedly.
‘MiniGun,’ agreed Carter as the Comanche’s engines howled and the machine veered, nose dipping. There came a heavy whirring as the General Electric MiniGun started to spin, hitting five thousand revs as Mongrel’s sights locked on to six of the Nex creatures, one standing atop a roof-dented ambulance, illuminated by the flashing blue lights.
Mongrel pulled the trigger.
The gun fired and thousands of heavy-calibre rounds ploughed through the tarmac of the hospital car park and cut the Sleeper Nex into bloody strips. Bullets punched the ambulance with metal fists and the Sleeper on top of the vehicle, staring with slitted copper eyes, was hurled backwards against the brick wall and smashed into smears of gore. The MiniGun whined down and Mongrel landed the Comanche, its suspension groaning. Rain swirled through the blood and pulped sarcocarp of Nex flesh strewn across the tarmac.
Carter stowed the silver box in his pack, grabbed his M24 and leapt from the war chopper. The violent wind from the rotors smashed against him. Mongrel was right there behind him. They were only half aware of the second Comanche touching down ... and of Simmo and The Priest leaping into the car park with their own weapons. Roxi followed, smoothly, calmly, her watchful gaze fixed on The Priest’s back.
There were more of the strange big catlike creatures, and they had retreated into the hospital under the onslaught of the Comanche’s MiniGun. They had disappeared far inside, leaving only blood streaks against sterile white tiles to mark their passage.
Carter sprinted forward.
‘A panic burst has just come through on the ECube - request for heavy artillery,’ called The Priest. Carter whirled, his stare meeting The Priest’s gold-flecked gaze.
‘From here?’
The Priest nodded.
‘Shit.’
Carter sprinted into the Accident & Emergency foyer of the hospital, then into the triage waiting area. Bodies littered the plastic-themed waiting room; some were lying dead, streams of blood leaking from wide wounds in belly and groin, glassy eyes staring impassively at the strip-light squares above. Some had been tossed like toys over the plastic chairs to lie at irregular twisted angles. Some lay scattered in several separate torn pieces.
Carter stepped over a torn-off arm and heard a growl - his Browning jerked up as the Sleeper Nex attacked from the wide white corridor, claws leaving tracks of blood against the smashed tiles ... it leapt, and the Browning boomed in Carter’s fist. Behind him the other Spiral operatives opened fire.
The Sleeper seemed to dance in mid-air, twitching as if controlled by wires like some demonic marionette. It slammed to the floor and its head lifted, copper eyes staring at Carter. A growl rattled from its punctured lungs ... then it slumped down, blood flowing in a wide pool. Without a further sound it died.
Carter swallowed hard, replacing the mag in his Browning. He had used all thirteen bullets.
Glancing behind him he saw the others nodding at him to take the lead. Carter sprinted forward through the hospital corridors. Twice more they came across Sleeper Nex - and twice more a hail of bullets felled them as they leapt, punching them to the floor and drilling them into a state of mangled death.
‘Where the fuck did these come from?’ growled Mongrel, wiping alien blood from his face.
‘And more importantly, what
are
they?’ said Carter.
‘One of Durell’s best-kept secrets,’ said The Priest softly. The others turned to look at him and he shrugged. ‘The Sleepers are part-breeds, not Nex but the original template for the Nex: a genetic master from which the Nex evolved. They are older than any of us can imagine, and far too savage and unpredictable to use as an army -hence Durell developing the Nex who are more, shall we say,
obedient.
Durell has been working on the Nex Project for longer than Spiral even
dares
to dream. The Nex you normally see - they are refined, a distillation of the pure hard-core terror, the pure bestial nature of the Sleepers. The Sleepers are
old.
And the Sleepers are pure evil. One avenue of Spiral scientific exploration even considers the possibility that Durell didn’t actually create the Nex. Rather, the Nex discovered him.
He
is
their
tool. A reversal of what we believe to be true. Whatever, the fact remains that the Sleepers are Durell’s wolves, his hunters, and if they scent you they will never allow you to escape. They will pursue you to the ends of the earth and eat your soul.’
‘I think we need a
long
talk when this shit is over,’ growled Carter, frowning.
‘If it ever is over,’ said The Priest calmly, closing his eyes.
Turning, Carter moved forward, down another wide corridor. They came across a few people who were still alive and had barricaded themselves into rooms: doctors and patients, some armed with fire axes and peering through glass with blood-speckled faces. One group of doctors had cornered a Sleeper Nex and between them had hacked it to bits with a collection of axes and kitchen knives. They came across another group of patients, one of whom had a sawn-off shotgun. Again, between them they had managed to severely wound a Sleeper and it lay in a pool of glistening slick blood while they tried to kick it to death.
Carter moved on, his face grim.
The small Spiral group emerged into a corridor and a Sleeper stood, peering in through the small glass window of a door halfway down the passageway. Even as the group arrived bullets slammed through the glass and the Sleeper flipped to one side to dodge the assault, then whirled low and with incredible agility reared and slammed against the door, which crashed inwards on long shards of splintered timber.
Carter opened fire, sprinting down the corridor with his Browning bucking in his fist. His boots ate the distance, grim stare locked on the Sleeper’s head which swung towards him. It suddenly charged, huge muscles writhing as its claws smashed the tiles beneath them into powder. Carter’s gun clicked on an empty magazine and he pulled around his M24, firing a hail of bullets from the hammering weapon - and as he and the creature were about to collide he flipped himself right, sliding along the tiles as the Sleeper tried to suddenly twist. The carbine’s bullets ate a long line across its underbelly. The Nex grunted and hit the ground in a gush of blood and Carter was past the creature as Simmo’s and Mongrel’s bullets tore into its thrashing carcass. Carter spun around into the small hospital room, gaze turning first to Nicky and her shocked face, her gun held in loose hands—
His eyes focused swiftly on Natasha’s bedside ...
And the flat lines on the monitor screens.
Nicky turned, confusion twisting across her face.
Carter dropped his gun and dragged his pack from his back. He fell beside Natasha, his hand smoothing back her hair, gazing down into the serenity of her cold still features. He pulled free the silver box, dropping it with a discordant clash on the tiles. The Avelach was cool to his touch—
‘Place it against her breast,’ came Nicky’s voice. Carter turned, stared into her eyes, then turned back to Natasha and carefully placed the disc against her soft skin.
He stood and pushed himself back from the bed, his brow furrowed in panic.
Nothing seemed to happen ...
He heard a commotion behind him. More distant gunshots, and the heavy blast of a shotgun followed by the splatter of its impacting shells. He did not move. His stare was fixed on Natasha’s face—
The constant and eerily steady
beeee ... eeeeep
of the monitor finally intruded on his senses.
‘It’s not working,’ he whispered.
Nicky moved forward, checked Natasha’s pulse - her
lack
of pulse. Lack of life. Natasha’s heart was not beating. Nicky looked up into Carter’s eyes, bit her lip, but could not bring herself to say the words - the words that she knew to be true. She whirled on a surprised Mongrel and Simmo and the two battle-stained warriors took a step back.
‘Get a fucking
doctor
!’ she hissed.
Carter placed his hand against Natasha’s brow. Nicky placed her hand on his arm then, and he turned slowly and looked down into her eyes. She took a deep breath.
‘What is it?’
‘She’s dead, Carter.’
‘But... the machine ... the
Avelach ...
’
‘It
heals
, Carter. It does not bring back the dead.’
The room whirled, smashed into him, slammed his face against a wall of chaos. It invaded him, ripped into his throat and tore out his insides. Carter fell to his knees, his hands sliding across Natasha’s dead body to rest by his sides.
Mongrel and Simmo appeared, dragging two doctors with them. The men looked confused, traumatised by their violent encounter with a Sleeper Nex.
They stared from Carter to Nicky and then back.
Nicky said, ‘This is my friend, Natasha. She is carrying a child - I think you need to work fast, gentlemen.’ They moved forward and Carter scrambled back, was helped to his feet where he stood, swaying numbly, watching but unable to watch. His gaze was fixed on the shining silver instruments as the doctors applied their skills despite the shock of their own harrowing and horrifying experiences ...
Blood splashed and dripped from the bed.
Stained the tiles.
Natasha’s blood.
Mongrel’s hand was there, right on Carter’s shoulder.
There came a cry, the ragged squawk of a premature newborn. Nicky wrapped the babe in a blanket as the umbilical cord was tied off and cut and Carter looked hard at the doctors who stood confused, instruments dripping blood, returning his stare.
‘Save her!’ he cried, straining to get forward. Mongrel held him back and Simmo moved forward to help Mongrel to restrain the distraught Spiral man. ‘Fucking
do something
!’ screamed Carter.
But the men did not move.
They looked towards Nicky, confused ...
And the blood-filled world spiralled down into an insanity of darkness ...
Of
greys ...
Of
black and white.
It was late.
Smoke hung heavy in the small room of The Gunmaker’s Arms public house. Against the bar leant three men, clothes ragged and torn, smeared with dried blood. The locals in the pub on the outskirts of London avoided them - had been doing so all night as the three steadily drank themselves into oblivion.
Glasses lay scattered, stools overturned; the atmosphere was one of despair and fear.
‘They tried to bring her back for an hour,’ said The Priest, savouring his pint of Guinness and leaving a frothy moustache against his beard. He shook his head sadly. ‘They should have left her ... God had claimed her soul. They could never have brought it back from the other side.’
‘Did you see Carter’s eyes?’ rumbled Simmo.
Mongrel nodded. ‘He could not understand why the machine did not work.’
‘Like Nicky said, it is a machine to heal. It was never designed to bring back the dead. It was never designed to work
miracles.
It is no God Machine.’ The Priest tasted the words with a sour grimace.
‘It worked miracles when it created the fucking
Nex
,’ said Mongrel, eyeing the large barrel-chested man and resting his back against the bar. The pub had nearly emptied now - business was quiet, due to the earthquakes -and it was far past closing time. But the landlord did not have the heart, nor the courage, to demand that these three men should leave.
‘That was different,’ said The Priest softly. ‘Natasha was badly wounded. In reality, she should never have lasted as long as she did ... Carter should be thankful that the child survived - it was extremely premature.’
‘Well, I let
you
pass on those sentiments when you see him next,’ snapped Mongrel.
‘How is he?’ rumbled Simmo. ‘They pump him with enough drugs to halt a rhino!’
Mongrel shrugged. ‘I think they keep him sedated for a few days. He had look of insanity about him when they could not revive Natasha - damn near tried to kill those two doctors and eight JT8s who arrived to sort out the Sleeper Nex. Fuck, I’ve never seen a man fight like that...’
They all nodded.
‘What was that he said?’ asked Simmo. ‘About ...
Kade?
‘He was delirious,’ said Mongrel, nodding into his Green King beer. ‘Fucker had just lost his woman. Man’s allowed to get a little fucked up in the head when something like that happens.’
‘It is a great shame that we petty mortals lead such weak and fragile lives,’ said The Priest softly, his voice filled with great melancholy. ‘Like glass, we shatter. Like pottery, we break.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with
we.’ He paused. The Priest had his Bible on the bar, and it had become stained with beer. ‘
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever.
‘ He glanced around, tears in his great brown eyes. ‘Sometimes, my friends, I find death a very hard pill to swallow.’