“Always in those books your mama gave you. Letters and numbers. Never sports, never even wanting to do your damn chores. Never doing the things I told you. Disobedient, the both of you. Ungrateful!” Putrid fumes wafted from his mouth, plastering Nathan’s face. “Gonna teach you, boy. Just like I taught your mama. Gonna teach you to respect a man, if it’s the last thing I do.”
Fury pulsed through Nathan’s veins. He ripped the skeletal hand away. “It w-w-was the last thing you did.” Yanking the revolver from the holster, he jammed it into his father’s ugly, gaping maw. Just like the last time.
Do it.
He screamed and pulled the trigger. His father’s face disintegrated in a spray of gore.
Nathan’s vision swam as the tunnel slowly coalesced again. The confinement pressed from all around; dark, wet, and clammy. The remains of a massive mushroom was right in front of him, pulverized by his gunshot.
Elena was practically on top of him, screaming in his ears. “What the hell is wrong with you? Move it, or we’re all dead!”
Gritting his teeth, he pushed forward. Shuffling fast as he could, he dragged himself to the mouth of the tunnel and shoved open the grate. He slid out, fell out and slammed into the ground. Leaping up, he managed to catch Elena as she tumbled. Hayes was right behind, shouting incoherently about something coming from behind. Nathan let Hayes hit the ground while he eased Elena down and readied his revolver with his spare hand.
The Other stuck his head out of the tunnel, staring at them from Lurch’s waxen face. A terrible grin distorted it even further.
Nathan shot it point-blank in the head. As it went limp and slid backward, Nathan yanked a frag grenade from his harness. Pulling the pin, he hurled it into the tunnel. Elena followed his example before they ducked to the side of the tunnel, covering their heads.
The detonation erupted a few seconds after. Smoke and inky sludge exploded from the tunnel, followed by quickly snuffed screams.
Nathan kept his firearm leveled, concentrating on the smoldering mouth of the shaft.
Nothing emerged.
“Nate.”
He turned at the sound of Elena’s voice. Followed her stare. It didn’t seem possible that anything else could stagger him, but the gleaming obsidian obelisk that towered over the primordial valley was so alien, so bizarre that he nearly wanted to go back into the madness he’d just exited from. There was something obscene about the edifice. Its presence was foul, prickling Nathan’s mind like tiny rusty needles.
He swallowed. “At least we know where we’re headed.”
Chapter 17: Elucidation a Posteriori
Michael stared at the oily stain on the ground, trying to piece together the grainy flecks of memory that had fragmented only moments earlier. The grass smoldered, blackened by an outline of an elongated shadow, a bizarre crime scene figure chalked in black. Seconds ago it had been… something else. Something monstrous.
And he destroyed it.
The gleaming obelisk towered over the clearing, its apex lost in the churning sky. Lightning sizzled, the light muted by clouds that whirled in cyclonic formation, frothing like boiling water. Rain drizzled down but did nothing to cool the stifling humidity that oppressed the entire glade. There was no wind, despite the nightmarish cloud cover that whirled above them.
He wiped his lips, gazing at the blood that smeared across his fingers. His mind was a snow globe of scattered recollections, the moments floating down in unhurried fashion. He glanced at the others. They stood out of arm’s reach, incomprehension stamped on their faces. Charlie Foxtrot held her rifle as if anticipating using it against him. Blackwell looked completely shaken, his mouth ajar. Guy had scarcely moved. He gazed at Michael with hooded eyes.
“How, Michael?”
“I… don’t know.” Michael turned his attention back to the remains of the troglodyte. “Something about this place. I’m attuned to it, somehow. I can do… things here. Fight them on their own level.”
“It shouldn’t be possible. No survivor has ever displayed any side effects like that before. Extrasensory projection. Troglodytes are notoriously difficult to kill outside of using ultraviolet light against them. But you tore it apart with a wave of your hand.”
Michael glared. “I told you I don’t know. I don’t have any answers, Guy. You’re the one with the experience. You can go where we can’t. You’ve been to the Other side, not me. So you tell me how I’m doing this.”
“Is that true?” Blackwell stepped closer. “Nathan surmised in his research that you might even be from the Other side. That’s why surveillance can’t record your face. You’re not from this world. Not even from this dimension, if some of the more outlandish theories about space-time are accurate.” He spread out his arms. “Is this you, then? Are we caught up in some nightmare of yours? Is any of this real?”
Charlie Foxtrot leveled her rifle at Guy’s head. “Bet we can find out real quick. I squeeze off a shot. Maybe we wake up back in Miami, sipping mojitos after his brains blow out the back of his head.”
Michael held out a warning hand. “Not the way it works, Charlie.”
She kept her weapon steady, peering down the sights. “How the hell do I know that? You guys are getting way off the rails.” She nodded to Guy. “You’re supposed to be some sort of time traveler, getting your Terminator on to save us from the apocalypse? Bitch, please. I had enough of this roller coaster. I wanna get off. Get it? I figure popping you won’t bother me one bit if it stops what’s happening.”
The rifle could have been a water gun for all the regard Guy gave to it. He glanced up at the roiling darkness in the sky. “This Aberration isn’t my doing. But if you want to take the shot and prove it, go ahead. Pull the trigger, or listen up and maybe live a little longer.”
“He’s right,” Blackwell said. “We registered this energy signature before we ever recruited Commander Steele. But I think we all need to understand what we’re up against here. Starting with what this Aberration actually is. You’re the only one who can fully explain it, Guy — or whatever your name is.”
“You don’t have the time.”
“We’ll make time.”
“Yeah.” Charlie Foxtrot stepped closer, which put the muzzle of her rifle inches away from Guy’s head. “Start talking.”
Guy gave her a wry glance. “The Aberration is psionic detritus. Fallout from the Neuroverse.”
Charlie Foxtrot’s face twisted. “What the hell did the robot say?”
Blackwell glanced at her. “Mental debris. Try to keep up.”
She responded with the middle finger salute. “Keep up with that. Just ‘cause I talk with slang don’t mean I think with slang. I’m no rocket scientist, but I’m pretty sure there’s no Neuroverse on this planet.”
Blackwell turned to Guy. “She has a point. What’s the Neuroverse?”
“The future existence of humanity. Having abandoned physical interaction, they live out their lives through computationalism, permanently linked to a vast digital network called the Neuroverse.”
Charlie Foxtrot gave him a disbelieving stare. “What, like the Matrix?”
Guy glanced at her with strained patience. “If that makes it easier to understand. Humanity chose this form of existence as the next logical step in human development. It is not some virtual reality experience, no diversion or entertainment forum. It’s actual existence, designed by an artificial intelligence called DEIS.”
“DEIS?”
“Digital Entity Intelligence System. The warden and savior of humanity, keeping us imprisoned while setting us free.”