Traitor Born (Secondborn #2)(88)
Suddenly they twitch, in unison, as if collectively possessed, and simultaneously hiss like one seething creature, “Zero rise!”
Emergency lighting kicks in across the arena, and in the next instant, horrific screams break out everywhere. It’s hard to believe my own eyes. Moments before, the entire crowd was rapt, rooting for me or Reykin, but they’ve changed. They sound like demons screaming. It’s as if they have their own language. The silver-eyed firstborns scream streams of words that sound like negotiations, but for what I have no idea.
My eyes are drawn to one man in the crowd with a silver stare. His moniker’s light turns dark and assumes the shape of a shadowy zero. I see another moniker change, and then more. Like dark matter bullying light, black zeros ignite throughout the crowd.
Then the deep, demon-like voices cease, all at once, as one.
Then they attack.
The firstborns with black zero monikers launch themselves at the others like ferocious beasts, tearing into flesh with their teeth, ripping open throats. Clawlike hands eviscerate anyone in their paths. It all happens in the blink of an eye. There are as many of them as there are average citizens. A chaotic stampede begins, but the attackers are horrifyingly efficient, disemboweling people with their bare hands, aided by steel claws that project from their fingertips.
The monsters move in a collective wave. They pile on top of each other, a tide of bodies climbing up each other, cresting toward The Virtue’s balcony. Exos fire hydrogen-powered weapons at them, blowing pieces off some, exploding the heads of others. But the convergence continues until it reaches the balcony’s edge. Sheer numbers overwhelm the Exos, and Fabian, Adora, and Grisholm are immediately surrounded.
Then the pack turns on Dune.
He fights the first few off with a hydrogen blade, but it’s futile. The monsters are not deterred by the deaths of the others. Dune can’t fight them all. Their numbers swiftly overwhelm him, and he succumbs, falling beneath a pile of jaws and claws. They devour him like maginots would.
And then everything begins to move in slow motion.
The Exos on The Virtue’s balcony are killed with agonizing efficiency. Each murder plays out in gruesome detail. Adora doesn’t even flinch when a silver-eyed monster rips into her jugular with razor-sharp claws. Grisholm tries to defend himself with his fusionblade, but the mob takes him down, biting off pieces of his face as he screams in vain. The Virtue is the last one standing. At first, the monsters seem careful not to kill him. They slowly tear his limbs, one at a time, prolonging his suffering. Then they rip his head from his torso, and I snap back into the moment.
Reykin is frantically screaming my name.
On every balcony in the arena, the monsters are slaughtering Clarities, their families, and their guests. All except for the Sword balcony, where Census agents are celebrating, toasting, smoking fat rose-colored cigars, and slapping each other’s backs.
“They’re Gabriel’s monsters!” I scream to Reykin, trying to be heard above the cacophony of demonic voices. “The Zeros!”
Another crest of Zero monsters nears our floating platform, jumping over each other in a grotesque wave of bodies. Reykin rushes the control panel of the hovering platform. We begin to rise, but we’re not fast enough. The Zeros climb nearer. We only have my hydroblade between us.
“You have to fight!” Reykin yells.
I grip my sword, though my hand trembles.
At my feet, fingers begin to creep over the edge of the platform. I slice them off, and the steel claws, implants extending from beneath the monster’s fingertips, remain embedded in the platform. A woman’s face looks over the edge, her silver eyes shining. I shear off the top of her head, exposing her brain, and see circuitry sparking in the rippling pink flesh of brain matter before the woman drops into the undulating sea of bodies beneath us. I kill everything that attempts to gain purchase on our small floating oasis, and Reykin furiously works the platform’s control panel, but the Zeros are gaining.
We need to shed weight. Reykin must be thinking the same thing, because he runs to the back of the platform and begins stomping on the machine that’s spewing rose petals. The bolts bend with each kick until the metal casing dislodges. It falls from the platform, striking crazed monsters on the way down. Still the creatures rise.
Desperation shows in Reykin’s eyes. He looks at me, then over the edge. He takes a step closer to it, his shoulders rounded in defeat. He looks back to me, and the sadness in his eyes is the same sadness I saw when he intended to kill himself on the battlefield when we first met.
“Don’t you dare jump, Reykin!” I yell. “I’ll kill you myself if you try. Do you hear me? You sticketh closer than a brother!”
“You’ll be okay, Roselle,” he says. “Take this hovering piece of crap to the training field. Find transportation. Get to Stars—to Daltrey. He’ll know what to do.”
“No!” I scream. “They’ll tear you apart!”
“I love you,” Reykin says, inching nearer to the edge.
“Wait!” I fling my unlit sword to him. Reflexively, he catches it. “Agent Crow won’t let them kill me, Reykin. He wants me alive.” I don’t know if that’s true, but I’m willing to gamble. I know Agent Crow. If there’s one thing I can count on, it’s his need to lord his victory over me. It wouldn’t be enough to let me die here. He needs to witness my suffering.