Everyone in the laundromat stared at Zoe. She racked her brain for an explanation. Either the Pride’s awakening had become so assured that the tablets had started melting of their own accord or… Kelvig and Taito were right. There is another prophet. Only one member of the doomed flight remained unaccounted for: Holton.
Lonnie seemed to work things out at the same time. “Looks like Director Kim was right. The co-pilot, Holton, was the other prophet.”
Schmidt cracked his knuckles. “We should have been tracking him down. Instead of wondering around playing with the local wildlife and getting tattoos.”
Lonnie nodded. “He’s probably the reason we crashed. If he was hallucinating, or summoned here by the Acolytes, we were doomed from the beginning.”
…four destroyed… …halfway there… …so close now… …*incessant buzzing*…
Ramses tugged a pair of ripped jeans and a flannel shirt over his smooth, tattooed skin and rippling muscles. “The air has changed. Smells… salty.”
Lonnie raised a brow. “We’re right next to the ocean. Of course it smells salty.”
“It’s more intense.” Ramses pulled on socks and inspected the boots Schmidt had given him.
Dr. Carter handed him a jacket and scarf. “What does that mean? Which damnable member of the Pride is loose now?”
“What’s left?” Anastasia asked.
Lonnie spoke, ticking off fingers as he did so. “First was the Trickster. Then the Tyrant and the Beauty. That leaves the Merchant, Legion, Lunatic, and Fury.”
Ramses finished lacing the boots. “You forgot Desolation.”
Lonnie shook his head. “I didn’t forget. If that one was broken, do you think we’d be having this conversation. It’s called Desolation for a reason.”
…smarter than he looks… …can I have him?... …he’s cute… …*more buzzing*…
Zoe rubbed her temples, feeling her muscles tense. When I find that idiot, Holton, I’m going to—
Schmidt rushed to the door and peered out. “None of this makes sense. Another prophet. Holton. How do you know?” He kept his attention on the darkening street. “We cannot stay here. The watchers will be out soon.”
Anastasia joined him at the door. “I’ve narrowed down the Wi-Fi signal. Maybe we go to the next building over and I can try to call for help?”
Ramses, fully dressed, gazed out the window. “Call? Won’t the Acolytes hear?”
Anastasia turned to face him. “Email, Zoom, whatever. You know what I mean.”
“No, actually,” Ramses said. “I do not.”
“Oh,” Anastasia winced. “Right. Sorry.”
Zoe’s temper exploded. “These are all half measures! We need to find the last challenge. We complete that, and we win!”
Schmidt huffed. “It is not a video game.”
Dr. Carter gathered her medical supplies, stuffing them into her bag. “No, but she’s right. What happens if we escape? They have a prophet, this Holton. Do you think the Pride will remain in Seclusion?”
Anastasia stalked to the washing machines and grabbed her laptop. “Then the world’s militaries will take care of it. We need to worry about us.”
“Fine,” Zoe said. “Let’s go. But we’re wasting time.”
Zoe knew the likelihood that the Acolytes had left any open link to the mainland was far-fetched. But Taito wanted something off the laptop. She would tag along, just in case the location of the third challenge was saved on the infernal machine. She also guessed that the world’s military powers would be ill-equipped to fight literal monsters. Can you nuke a nightmare? She didn’t want to be around to find out.
Ramses wrapped the scarf around his neck and face. “This is where I take my leave. I need to get the lay of the land.”
Dr. Carter raised a tentative hand. “How will we find you?”
Ramses tapped his nose. “I’ll know.” He closed both of his eyes in a weird double-eyed wink and pulled the door open. A fresh blast of cold air swept through the laundromat, and he was gone.
Everyone stood staring into the pitch-black street.
Lonnie whispered, “I wish the Director were here.”
Ten minutes later, having gathered their meager supplies, they slunk into the nearby alleyway and Anastasia cracked open the laptop. Its light spread through the blanket the doctor had draped over her to hide it. The scene reminded Zoe of a child reading under their covers when they should be asleep.
The streets were crowded with large mounds of snow: vehicles so covered only their side-view mirrors protruded. The slush and snow piled so high, they had to wade through it. Daylight had faded and a dense layer of clouds reflected only the slightest amount of light from Seclusion’s streetlights. It gave the street an eerie, ephemeral quality. Like a dream. Fuzzy and indistinct around the edges.
Anastasia’s laptop light blinked off, and she pulled the blanket around her like a shawl. “Just a bit further.”
She led them to the end of the alley and pointed at a building across the street. A blocky, single-story stack of concrete with a satellite dish on the roof. A lone streetlight flickered near the front entrance. Large sheets of plywood were nailed across the windows and doors. Someone had spray painted words across the barriers in large, red letters. ‘Væk til sommer.’ Gone til summer. This must be the research outpost.
Anastasia waded forward with Schmidt following close behind. He jerked to a halt and grabbed his head, doubled over in obvious pain.
“What is it?” Lonnie said, helping him to stand.
Schmidt faced down the street towards a well-lit parking lot near the beach. The freezing ocean crashed against the sand, but further out large fragments of ice glimmered in the moonlight where the clouds permitted it. Several bulges formed in the water and the ice sheets swept to the side. The bulges approached the beach.
“They are…” Schmidt gritted his teeth. “Approaching.”
Lonnie glanced at the ocean and then the sky. “Tyrant?”
“Nein. So—” Schmidt clamped his eyes shut. “So many.”
The bulge of water crashed against the beach and an enormous squid, not unlike the Tyrant, carved through the ice and sea foam. Beaching itself, the creature uncoiled its long, pallid tentacles. The massive squid opened its maw and disgorged a trio of gooey gray blobs. They pulsated and writhed for a moment. One unfurled, dripping a shiny mucous along the sand, to reveal a vaguely humanoid form with a squirming mass of tendrils for a face. Three unblinking black eyes searched the beach and it extended three horrid arms, each tipped with a single, piercing talon.
Another ship-sized squid erupted from the ocean a bit further down the beach. Followed by another, and another. Each vomited forth a handful of monsters. The first, having produced nearly a dozen monstrosities, retreated beneath the waves, only to be quickly replaced.
Zoe and the others stood watching the horrible display until the wind carried their stench across the group. Acidic and sharp, the creatures smelled like cleaning liquids.
“Ugh.” Zoe covered her nose. “Is that bleach?”
“Ammonia,” Dr. Carter said.
“What are they?” Lonnie asked.
…*the buzzing grew louder, drowning out the other voices*… …WE ARE…
“Legion!” Zoe pushed Lonnie and Schmidt. “We have to go. Now!”
Schmidt gripped his forehead. He motioned towards the building. “She is right. Quick. Before they see us!”
The group pushed through the snow and around the side of the research outpost. A collection of heavy-looking crates covered with tarps and snow crowded the narrow alleyway. At the end, Schmidt stopped at a lone door. Once painted blue, or maybe gray—difficult to tell in the dim lighting, rust had overtaken it from the bottom. But the chunky padlock affixed near the handle looked shiny and new.
“It’s locked!” Lonnie stared at the end of the alleyway and froze for a moment. His eyes unfocused. When they snapped back to the present, he whispered to Schmidt.
“Do something!” Anastasia hunkered behind a supply crates. “They’re almost here.”
Indeed, the smell of ammonia was growing stronger and the buzzing intensified. Zoe did not need a headache to tell her the Legion was right around the corner.
Schmidt grabbed Zoe by her collar. “This is all your fault! You led us here. You have doomed us all!” Nearly frothing, a bit of spittle landed on Zoe’s cheek.
Zoe’s blood pounded through her ears. What the hell?! This was Anastasia’s idea! Her pulse quickened and her muscles throbbed. She wanted to grab Schmidt and bash him against the door.
Schmidt sneered. “Am I pissing you off?”
“Fuck yeah!” Her vision flared red. “I’ll rip your head off!”
“Good.” Schmidt pointed at the door.
Oh. Before her anger could fade, Zoe planted a swift kick at the door. The padlock made a brief chirp and fell to the ground. The door yawned open and the group rushed inside. They slammed the door against the ammonia and the buzzing sound.
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