A Perfect Machine(73)

As she continued to experiment with her body, at one point it looked like she was attempting something specific. Cleve was the first to recognize it.

“Is she…” He trailed off, frowning.

Kendul smiled. “Yeah, I think she is.”

Marcton voiced it: “Snow angel.”

Adelina moved her arms up and down, her legs side to side. The movements made the ground shudder.

“Surreal,” Marcton said, turned to Kendul. “I gather this is not how shit went down the first time?”

“Absolutely not. Much more running, screaming, and general death that first time. This is preferable by far.”

That’s when Adelina sat up, and all four men who’d resurrected her caught their breath. Snow drifted down from her arms and midsection, revealing both blackened and gleaming metal.

The men just stared and waited. For death. Or, hopefully, something less permanent.

Adelina clicked her tongue a few times; it sounded almost like someone forging a sword.

“Adelina,” Kendul said, breaking the silence and startling his companions. He knew he had to keep it simple. Didn’t want to clutter up her mind with a bunch of pointless questions. “What do you need from us?”

Adelina blinked. Immense power coursed through her; she found it difficult to stem its flow. But her mind was calming, filtering information, only allowing through the parts of herself she recognized. Trying like hell to keep the weight of decades of her ancestry at bay. That’s what wanted in, she understood: History, she thought. Longevity. Continuation.

The big metal balls that were her eyes moved from side to side, taking the men in. They squirmed under her gaze.

“Kyllo,” was all she said: granite dragged across concrete. It was all she needed to say.

And the voice that said it sounded like it had been waiting to say that particular word all its life.





T W E N T Y





With every step Henry Kyllo took down the subway tunnel, the walls shook.

“We need to find a light source, Henry.”

No answer, just more plodding.

It was getting harder and harder to get through to Henry now. Milo realized it would be best if he concentrated on working with Faye on a plan for getting them out of here. Away from these tunnels. Away from this whole city.

“Faye, how are you doing?”

“I feel a lot better,” she said, but winced when she moved her wounded arm and shoulder. “This damn thing still hurts, but not even close to as bad as before.”

They carried on in silence for a while, then Faye looked up at Henry, said, “How’s he doing?”

“Not great. No idea what’s going on in his head, and he won’t say anything. I don’t know where he’s gone, but I’m scared he won’t be coming back.”

And it was true. Henry’s mood darkened with each step he took, as though the darkness around him was becoming part of him, seeping into his structure. He felt as though he’d fallen down a very deep well and could no longer see the top – the light there long extinguished. And whenever he tried to scramble back up the sides of the well, they became slick with moisture, any handhold treacherous, impossible. He knew, too, that something was moving in to replace who he’d been. He was losing his internal battle.

Up ahead, some pinpricks of light. Shuffling sounds.

The lights wobbled from side to side as the tunnel curved and they were able to better see what it was: a handful of city workers, probably down here fixing something. With the sound of Henry’s thunderous steps, the lights became more frenzied as the workers figured out that whatever was stomping its way toward them was really big. And definitely not a subway train.

Scuffling, clattering sounds, and the lights scattered. Most vanished from sight instantly, but one stayed, low to the ground. As Henry, Milo, and Faye approached, they saw that one of the workers had dropped his flashlight. It sat in the dirt near the tracks.

“Light source,” said Faye.

“Ask and ye shall receive,” Milo replied, laughed.

“Well, while we’re asking, another one woulda been nice,” Faye said.

Milo picked up the flashlight, waved it around. The shaft of light caught the side of what appeared to be another tunnel – this one leading away from the old, disused section of the underground.

“Must lead to the tunnel that’s actually in use,” Milo said. “Maybe something in this old tunnel is still hooked up to the new line?”

“Or, jeez, I dunno,” Faye said, “maybe they were working in the new tunnel, heard giant goddamn footsteps this way, decided to come check it out, saw what it was – or at least heard it – and got the hell out of Dodge.”

Milo nodded, grinned. “Yeah, that’s more likely, you’re right.”

But as quickly as the grin appeared on Milo’s face, he felt his heart sink as he thought about the situation. What was their plan here? Hide was not a helpful idea due to Henry’s size, so besides another rampage – the first one not turning out well for anyone involved – running away was the only other option. They needed to somehow try to get out of the city without being noticed. Underground was the best option for that plan, but now there were two options within that choice: old tunnels or new tunnels? Milo had no idea they were linked so openly.