MUSICAE
ADAM
Adam took out another singer with his Athena. Kelly and the rest of the retinue were busy keeping the screamers off Derek, but they'd overwhelm him soon. They were out of reach for the moment, on top of a short building, but that couldn't last. The zombies were starting to notice them, and would start scaling the building any second.
He had tried shooting out the lights, but his aim wasn't good enough, and the streetlights were only a small part of the problem anyway. Most of the glow—bright enough to illuminate the entire street as if it was day—came from inside the buildings.
At least the 'sarians had found a way around the singers' infection. The retinue and Adam were all wearing big, bulky headphones that filtered through all the external noise, removed any hint of the song, and played it back for them. There was a lag of a few milliseconds, which was very dangerous in the middle of combat, but it was either that or stab out their own eardrums.
“Some Draculas will be here in about half an hour with an EMP,” MC said into Adam's ear. “Can you hold out 'til then?”
He shot another singer in the chest. He wasn't quite good enough to reliably get headshots. “Maybe. But Derek and the girls won't, and if we try to protect them we'll get swarmed too.”
There was a brief pause. “One sec, I think they've got an idea.”
He turned his attention to Derek's blue force field, flickering every time a laser struck it. The attacks were coming in faster, and it was clearly taxing him to keep up the shield. But then...
The street swallowed them.
The asphalt under their feet opened up, like a great big maw, and sealed itself up after they fell in. The screamers milled around in confusion for a few minutes, before they began to notice the retinue again.
“MC,” Adam said as calmly as he could, “are they all right?”
“Yeah. I mean, I can't get a signal, so I'm not sure...”
He switched to his Caedes as the horde pressed closer. “But that was the plan, right?”
He could almost hear her nodding. “Yes, yes, that was the plan. In a few minutes, once their reservoirs are replenished, they'll pop back up and sneak attack the horde.”
He frowned as he unleashed a barrage on some of the closer zombies. “But isn't their only attack Ling? And she needs to conserve her strength.”
“Derek will flicker the shield long enough for Akane to run out and attack. I have stuff to do. Focus on the screamers in front of you.”
Adam nodded. Derek knew what he was doing. Adam needed to stop asking questions. “Got it.”
“Oh, there is one more thing. Keep an eye out for Zaphkiel. We think they jumped the fence.”
Adam cursed under his breath. Wonderful. Now they had a crazy racist running around.
But he didn't have time to worry about that. The screamers were scaling up the side of the building and would be in laser range soon. The retinue and Adam kept them at bay as best they could, but the angle was bad, and there were so many of them. It seemed like every angel in the district was turned. They were forced away from the edge, where they put their backs to a wall—the stairway down, to be exact. It wasn't much protection, but at least they could flee inside if they had to.
Even though they were trying to kill them, Adam found the screamers' attack interesting. It really did look like they grabbed rays of light and threw them, as if they were spears. Each laser caused a small, smoking explosion where it hit. The holes weren't very big, but they added up to something dangerous.
“At least their aim sucks,” Adam said.
George spoke gruffly. “We need to fall back. Too many of them.”
Kelly hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “We can't help Huntsman if we're dead. Sax, the door.”
Jarasax opened the roof access door and dodged inside. Alex was next, followed by Kelly and Adam. George held the way for them, unleashing bursts of fire from his minigun to force the zombies back.
“George, now!” Adam called. He was the one who suggested running. Why wasn't he running?
George ignored him, but as luck would have it, that was about the moment the screamers started to find their range. A laser struck George in the shoulder, throwing up a burst of acrid smoke and causing him to bellow in pain. At the same time, a few more beams lanced forward, but he was already stumbling back into the dubious safety of the building.
Adam pulled the door shut behind him as fast as he could and sabotaged the lock, which should keep them from picking it. Yes, it sounded stupid to assume zombies could pick locks, but apparently everyone in the city could do it in their sleep, and it just took two seconds to jam it anyway. He stuck a bobby pin in and broke it off.
“Let's secure the building,” Kelly said, scratching that device on her left arm. “Or at least one floor.”
Adam glanced around as they came away from the stairs. It seemed as if the place was another office/apartment complex, which at least meant there would be lots of supplies to use to make the place defensible. Maybe even some ammo.
“We need to find... the manager's office. He should have maps and floorplans...” Adam frowned when he realized what was bugging him about the place. “Why are there no signs?” There weren't any names or numbers over the doors, or anywhere else for that matter. He picked up a sheaf of paper off one of the cubicle desks. It seemed blank, but it had creases and other signs of use. There were a bunch of other similar papers scattered around.
Alex read over his shoulder. “'Staff meeting tomorrow at noon to discuss budgetary concerns.'” When they noticed him staring at them, they just shrugged. “Invisible ink. Also called angelscript. You need dayeyes to read it.”
“All right then,” Adam said. “Lead on, Honored Daybreaker.” He gave them a semi-mocking bow.
They rolled their eyes, but led him to the manager's office.
It took a few minutes of scrambling through the drawers, but they found a carefully-labeled floorplan. Adam couldn't read it, of course, but Alex took a look at it.
“Exits are here, here, and here,” they said, pointing to them around the floor. “There's a supply closet over here.”
“Kelly, you guys secure the exit,” Adam suggested. “We'll look at the supplies.” She waved them on, nursing a headache from the lights.
The odd thing about this building—not to mention most of the others in the area—was that there were lights everywhere. Every surface, including the floor, was covered in fluorescent light strips, usually shaped into aesthetic designs. It looked a lot like the patterns of an angel's dayskin, actually.
Luckily, this place was built to accommodate people with baseline eyes as well, so while the lights were bright, they weren't blinding. Alex said they were “angelic script,” which was somehow distinct from angelscript, and used it to help them navigate.
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“This is just a janitor's closet,” they reminded Adam. “Don't get your hopes up.” They started picking the lock, and after a few minutes it clicked open.
“Why does this city even bother with mechanical locks any more?” Adam muttered as they pulled open the door.
“There's an electric sensor inside that's much harder to defeat,” they said. “It sets off a silent alarm. We don't have to worry about it, but a real thief would have much more trouble trying to explain why they're picking locks.”
Adam nodded and glanced around the closet. Unfortunately, it didn't look like there was anything useful.
“Maybe the break room will have something,” he said. Last time he was in this situation, he found a half-empty case of ammo in a break room. Just sitting there, next to some doughnuts. This city was pretty seriously messed up.
Alex laughed. “What? No, this is more than enough. Haven't you spent enough time with Kelly to know by now?”
They handed him a bunch of cleaning supplies—bleach, window cleaner, toilet cleaner...
He was having trouble holding it all. “Wait, hang on. What's all this for?”
They grinned, picking up their own armful. “Kelly will mix it all together. Always remember: Belians are very good with chemistry.”
“I don't think we need meth,” Adam complained. The two of them walked back to the stairway, which the others had already blockaded pretty solidly.
Alex just smiled. “What you need is to have faith.”
Before Adam could retort, there was a knock on the barricade.
He glanced at Alex, and they nodded. They had heard it too.
The knock came again, a little louder this time. Something had come up the stairs and was trying to get in. Politely, too.
“Hello?” Adam called, putting down the chemicals and readying his shotgun just in case. “Who's out there?”
There was a long pause, and for a moment he thought they had simply left.
Then the barricade exploded.
Wood from the tables flew everywhere in a blinding flurry. One of the metal legs clipped him in the shoulder, but he just shielded his face with his hand and stayed put, keeping his Saint George as steady as he could. It only took a moment for the dust to clear.
And there was Zaphkiel, one of the highest angels in existence, standing there as if nothing was wrong.
They looked about the same as before, except their skin—all their skin—was softly glowing. Their dayskin didn't have any patterns, and for a moment, Adam was curious as to why.
But that question fled his mind when he noticed that the angel was screaming.
Their jaw was open so wide it was practically unhinged, and their eyes tracked the retinue with single-minded purpose. They couldn't hear them, the headphones must have had a glitch or something. They were filtering out that too. But they were definitely turned, there was no question about that.
Adam opened fire mostly out of reflex, hitting Zaphkiel full in the chest with a load of buckshot, but they didn't so much as flinch. It didn't even bruise their alabaster skin. Buckshot wasn't exactly designed for penetration, but it should have still had some effect.
Alex was uninjured from the explosion, but white as a sheet and trembling like a leaf. “A warlord... a warlord has been turned.”
Zaphkiel raised their hand in an aggressive gesture.
Adam tackled Alex, throwing them out of the way and behind a desk just as the Saint's laser exploded at the spot they had occupied moments before.
“We can't kill them,” Adam said. “Angels will have our heads.” He glanced at Alex. “You got any ideas?”
But they were still trembling. “A warlord...”
He frowned. It would only be moments before Zaphkiel realized where the pair had gone. At least they were as stupid as the others. “Alex, come on. How do we beat them?”
They swallowed visibly, and shook their head. “They... they're a warlord. They stand a decent chance against armies.” They licked their lips, thinking. “Perhaps... perhaps Kelly...”
What the hell would she be able to do? Ah... the chemicals. But wherever Kelly was, it wasn't here, and she probably wouldn't be much use against someone built specifically to fight her kind anyway.
Looked like it was all up to Adam, as usual.
But he couldn't kill them. Even if it was within his ability, Zaphkiel was probably the most important angel in the city. Laura's little history lesson on the way over hadn't been very detailed, but she had managed to get it into his head that Zaphkiel was the founder and leader of the culture. They would not take kindly to their death, however necessary it was.
Adam's thoughts were interrupted as the floor next to him started burning.
It took him a moment to realize that it wasn't an attack. It looked like someone was writing with a pen that used fire for ink—in other words, a laser.
But that particular train of thought quickly screeched to a halt when he realized that the screamer was writing words.
I am the Composer, the scarred floor proclaimed. Join me.
Adam licked his lips nervously. He had to keep them talking. Unlikely as it might seem, Kelly and the others might be able to get them out of this. They'd be here soon enough.
“Join you?” he asked, trying to make it seem as though he was considering the offer. “And do what?”
Kill, the laser wrote.
He frowned. “Kill who?”
Anything. Everything.
“Any chance I can change your mind on that? Maybe you should get interested in sports.”
No. Tried that. Kill everything.
Adam stared, convinced I was misreading. This guy had decided to go omnicidal because he sucked at sports?
“Look, just because you fail once—”
The laser wrote again, faster and angrier. No. Tried everything. Love. Power. Wealth. Knowledge. None of it is of any interest. There is only killing.
“There's other stuff besides killing,” Adam insisted. He really doubted he'd be able to reason with them, but he was the only one in a position to try.
To his surprise, Zaphkiel laughed. Oh? The laser wrote. Tell me, Adam Anders, other than killing, what has caught your interest lately?
He froze. Not because he had made some deep, cutting remark that made him question his entire life—no. That wasn't it.
The Composer knew his name.
Oh shit.
Apparently, he took Adam's hesitation for something else entirely. Join me, and you can have the powers that were denied to you.
He answered before he could stop himself. “Wait, what? You can give me powers?” Then he rolled his eyes. “Oh, yeah, like I want to spend the rest of my life as a zombie. No thanks.”
No. Not like this one. Like Derek, like Akane. Power, no strings attached. Just so long as you use it to kill.
Adam wanted to say that the offer wasn't enticing. After all, a guy who made zombies was offering him vague promises of power. It was pretty clear where that would end.
But...
He had meant what he said when they first discovered these powers. He hadn't wanted one. They hadn't known anything about them. But as time wore on, it was becoming increasingly clear that there were no downsides—at least none that popped up too soon.
Adam would like to say that he would have turned him down, preferably giving him his reply in the form of a god slayer to the face.
But he would have said yes. If out of curiosity, if nothing else. It was just too interesting an offer to refuse, too much power for the taking. This story would have ended very differently, in that case.
But then the Draculas detonated their EMP, and all the lights went out, leaving only the warlord, glowing like a nightlight.
So Adam ran.
The fact that the retinue got out as well was nothing but a lucky coincidence.