Chapter 23 – Lupus et Agnus

August 18th, 2552 - (10:24 Hours - Military Calendar)

Epsilon Eridani System, Reach

Viery Territory, Eposz

New Alexandria, Csillagos éj Hotel

:********:

Noah didn't dare stop for anything. He crawled on at a fast pace, making quick gains through the ducts. It wasn't easy. Every so often he was bothered by the pain in his leg. He would reach back to grab his ankle which would only make it worse. Soon it got so bad that he had to stop altogether.

The pants on his right leg was torn to shreds. He tried to roll it up to look but that just made it more painful. What he could see was something like patches of a bad rash. They burned. The rest of his skin bristled from the heat coming off his pants. His rush to escape the bugs had stopped him from realizing that they were steaming. His tennis weren't any better and he could still feel his socks hissing like an oven.

The bugs.

Mr. Walker.

The big, blue flash.

It was as if stopping for the first time allowed more than the pain to settle in. His vision hazed up as his lips quivered. He wanted to cry again. He didn't.

Mr. Walker had asked him a question before the bugs got to him: "You want to see them again, right?"

It was the one thing that had pushed him to let go, to crawl back into the last place he wanted to be. He did want to see them again. He wanted to see his mom, his dad, Ms. Turner, Mr. Mitchell and Sará.

And Emma.

He wanted to see Daniel too, and Tommy. At the same time, he didn't. They were the two reasons why he didn't want to be here and why he hadn't wanted to go back in. Despite the quiet of the ducts and the far-off echoes that sometimes broke it, he never felt like he was alone. He always thought that he would turn a corner and see one of them there or maybe both. At any moment he imagined running into Daniel and seeing him sitting against a vent, all bloodied and burned, staring him down. He could see his friend breaking his silence at last to ask him the one question he dreaded most: "Why didn't you listen?"

And why didn't he?

If he had, maybe he would have found his mom earlier. Maybe he would still be safe with Emma and her family. Maybe he would still be cracking jokes with his friends instead of being all alone, in pain and lost in, well, he couldn't tell where, wondering how much their parents would hate him if he ever got to tell them what happened.

That did it.

Noah wrapped his arms around his head to muffle himself as he cried. He wanted someone to hold him, to tell him it would be alright. But he recalled seeing the last person who did that being throttled and murdered. It made him cry even harder. Everything wasn't alright. Maybe it would never be.

He worried that his arms wouldn't be enough when he remembered what he was holding onto. He grasped the handle of Mr. Walker's knife, the last thing he had entrusted to him. The feel of it in his hand, albeit cold, was the sole source of comfort that he could find. It reminded him of what he needed to do, of what Mr. Walker told him to do.

"I need you to toughen up, okay?"

His mom's voice echoed in his head. It gave him something firm, something that wanted him to make sure those words weren't the last he ever heard from her.

He cried until his eyes were sore. Once they were, he wiped the dampness off his face and the snot off his nose. He picked himself back up and crawled on.

He needed to get somewhere where he could be found. It needed to be a place he was familiar with, a room on a floor that he knew well. First, he had to find out where he was.

He came across a duct with a row of vents and shuffled quietly along it. He peeked through each of the slatted openings until he came to one that looked at a pair of elevator doors. The floor sign beside them was marked '81'.

He was higher up than he thought he was. Then again, it dawned on him that he might be right where he needed to be. The closest room that he knew best was the ballroom on the floor below. It was so big that he could get there if he found the right vent. That would be better than trying to crawl to the next level with his legs all banged up.

He clambered down to the end of the duct and wormed through several more, eventually coming to one longer than any he'd seen before. He reached a vent that showed him exactly where he was trying to go.

On the other side of the slats, he looked out to an arching ceiling that panned down to the ballroom below. It was a wide space with a similar shape to '71's banquet hall but twice the size. The floor was polished so well that the light coming from the chandeliers reflected off the burnished wood and gave the whole place a golden-brown glow. Much of the floor was submerged beneath a lake of dining tables and chairs that rippled out from a stage platform. In front of the stage was an island of open space where, before now, people could dance.

He remembered coming here a few times with his friends. He could almost see Tommy standing on the stage, singing something off-key while Daniel played a fork and plate like a violin. He even strummed it like a guitar if he really felt like it. All the while Noah pretended to move to the shaky notes and screeching plates like it was an orchestra, trying to show them how he would impress Emma if they ever danced together.

The room was empty. It was untouched too, another good sign.

He looked for a way down and his imagination lured him to the ballroom's tall curtains. They flowed from the ceiling to cover the windows on one side of the room. Their bronze fabric twinkled in the light as they swayed in the artificial breeze of the ac.

It was a long drop down, long for him anyway. He could break his legs if he missed the opening grab. To his surprise, the possibility didn't even scare him. A part of him already knew that much worse could happen if he stayed where he was.

He put his knife aside and pulled out his screwdriver. He twisted each of the screws out of place. As he finished the last, it suddenly struck him that he'd made a mistake. By then it was too little too late. He reached out and failed to get a handhold, watching as the vent cover peeled out of its housing and fell to the floor.

The clattering impact shook him to his core as he heard the sound shatter the silence of the room, echoing far through the ducts.

He stayed put.

When several seconds passed and he heard nothing else, he dared to crawl out of the opening. He got his arm out first and reached for the closest curtain. He got a good hold on it and gave it a tug. Assured that it wouldn't give way, he tried to tuck his knife in with his screwdriver but the former proved too big for his pockets. He couldn't go down one-handed. Nevertheless, he didn't want to lose his best chance at surviving. He thought back to some of the Army reels he'd watched on Waypoint whenever his mom thought he was asleep. Therein lay his inspiration and his solution. He put the handle between his teeth and bit down hard. He could just barely hold it with his mouth. He pulled himself out of the vent, hooked his feet around the fabric and, like they did in the reels, slowly slid down the curtain.

His greatest struggle was keeping the right amount of slack. He didn't want to fall. All the same, he didn't want to get stuck.

Seconds crawled on like minutes.

He felt a wave of relief the instant his feet met the floor.

That relief turned into goosebumps as one of the ballroom doors burst open and something big stormed in.

Noah dropped down and scampered to the nearest table. Slipping to the side of it, he trembled as he took a peek. The room trembled too as the impossibly heavy footsteps stomped about. Their source appeared on the opposite side of the room, stopping by the stage long enough for him to get an eyeful.

He had no idea what he was looking at.

What he could tell at a glance was that it wore dark blue armor and had several long spikes jutting from its back. It had no hands, none that he could really call 'hands' per say, but something like a shield on one and a glowing, claw-like thing at the end of another. It was big, really big, and it was moving.

It took Noah an unsettling second to recognize that the part that looked like a freshly peeled tuna can was actually its head, and it was looking around.

Noah knew exactly what or rather who it was here for. The vent cover must have given him away.

He slunk back behind the table and carefully slipped beneath the cover, hiding himself. He curled his legs in close and listened.

He heard the terrifying giant let out a low groan. It was like many animals moaning together as they were being smothered. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. His goosebumps prickled his skin as if he were caught in a thorn bush. Even that sounded better than what he was facing now.

Then the giant began to walk.

It was impossible for him not to hear the heavy footfalls as they went. Neither could he avoid seeing a few dishes and utensils shatter or clang off the floor, vibrating all the way off the dining tables.

Eventually he saw a table out in front of him fall under the giant's shadow.

In a flash, it was gone.

A second later he heard it crash somewhere across the room. Left in its place were the massive metal boots of the thing that had come for him. It was enough to make Noah curl up into a ball. All his mind and all his strength were concentrated on simply not peeing himself. Even that became harder as the giant came closer.

He watched the boots stomp small craters across the floor. Soon its shadow fell over his table, engulfed it then passed on. The creature moved through an opening between his table and another on his right. It had swatted the last one aside like a mosquito, getting it out of the way so it could reach the back of the room. He could see it stop at the vent cover. It must have come to check it out.

It let out another groan, this one lower and angrier than the first. It turned and went at a slow trot down the length of the room. Hearing it move away, Noah let out a sigh. He could feel his head beating hard like his heart and brain had switched places.

A third groan sounded before the giant swatted another table aside.

It was catching on. It knew he was hiding.

He needed to leave and soon. He looked through the tablecloth towards the stage. Past the show curtains he saw the door to the backstage. He wasn't sure about the other exits since the giant's arrival made it clear that anything could be waiting outside. At least this way he could hide behind the tools and equipment that he knew to be behind the stage.

He took his knife in hand, more for the comfort of it than the thought that it could do him any good. He listened again for the giant, heard it groaning a ways off and made his move. He brushed past the cloth and came out into the open. He crawled quickly to the next table, hid under it and waited. The giant drifted back into sight. He saw it raise its shield and bring it down like a sword, crushing a distant table in half. It growled at the unrevealing remains and prowled off.

He went out again, getting closer to the stage.

He was shuffling to his next hideout as a loud roar shook the room. Out the corner of his eye, he witnessed the spikes on the giant's back rattle with rage. It swiped aside a set of chairs with one hand and raised the claw-like thing on the other.

A green burst shot from it and exploded into a set of tables on the other side of the room. Fiery debris rained against the walls. The giant wasn't satisfied. It hurled its shield and smashed away at the furniture before firing again.

Noah sensed the prickling feeling on his skin turning to something like knives. His nerves left him ready to throw up. He held it down and carried on, putting one hand in front of the other like his life depended on it.

It probably did.

:********:

The way to Floor 80 was clear. The climb up the staircase went smoothly until the moment that Erica checked her datapad again. She tapped open a camera feed to the ballroom, checked in on her screen and froze mid-step.

The first thing to horrify her was the sight of the hulking Hunter in the middle of the room. The second was the mess of crushed tables and shattered chairs around it which the giant was eagerly adding onto with every swing of its arm.

The others saw her expression and halted on the steps.

"What is it?" Mitchell asked, gauging the way ahead with his shotgun.

"There's a Hunter...in the ballroom." She said grimly.

"What?"

Sará and Turner snuck up behind her to see.

The latter gasped and pointed at a part of her screen. "Look there. Is that-, I-, I think I saw something."

Erica traced her finger to a table not far from the Hunter. As the titan moved off to ravage the next piece of furniture, the tablecloth lifted like a veil and a small figure scurried out. Erica immediately zoomed in. Before the figure disappeared under another table, she got a good look at the face.

Both to her relief and her horror, it was Noah.

She almost didn't think it was her little boy by the way he carried a knife in one hand. She watched him crawl into the safety of his next refuge. Scarcely a short walk away the Hunter had leveled its arm-cannon and fired off a ball of plasma. The explosion blew apart more furniture and cast even more across the room.

Fear coiled around her soul and her chest tightened. The mother in her wanted to run in right then guns blazing. A different part of her told the first to hang on and think it through. She had to force herself to listen to the latter. She had to save her son, but she wasn't about to get everyone killed in the process.

"We gotta get in there now." Sará insisted and moved to rush up the last of the stairs. Erica caught her by the shoulder.

"What're you-"

"Hold on."

Turner came up beside her. "But Noah's in there."

"Yeah, and so is a Hunter."

"She's right, we can't just rush in." Mitchell said apprehensively as he eyed his M45. "Take it from me, these are peashooters compared to the armor on those things. It'd be no better than a distraction."

"Maybe that's exactly what he needs." Erica said and pointed as Noah moved to the next table. "Look, he's heading to the stage. He might be trying to escape that way. If we meet him there, we can distract that Hunter long enough for him to cross the dance floor, get up the stage and out the door."

"That'll leave him exposed for a sec." Mitchell argued. "You sure about this?"

"He's going to run out into the open anyway. We should at least be there to help him when he does."

"...Copy that."

Sará and Turner voiced their tacit agreement. They wanted to save him as much as she did. Erica didn't, however, want to go in without a plan. Even with one in mind, even as Mitchell led the way again, she was still afraid, unsure if it would work or if they were all about to die. Everything depended on how brave Noah was. Since he'd made it this far on his own, however, she suspected that he'd inherited more from his father than looks alone.

:********:

Noah snaked a path through the underbrush of tables and chairs. He was getting close to the dance floor. The giant didn't seem to notice and yet didn't seem to care. It fired on everything it saw. The floor shook with each explosion and more than once Noah had a fork or glass fall on his head. He put his all into not making a sound when it happened, not that the pain in his leg helped.

Things got worse when the giant stopped firing.

The room went quiet. Noah also stopped. He didn't want to risk being heard so he waited. For a while he was worried that the giant had spotted him. Maybe it was listening out for him. Either possibility left him unwilling to move.

A loud, mechanical scream brought an end to the silence. It was followed by something like a waterfall crashing over rocks. Though the sound gave him shivers, the sight of what it did left him petrified.

The overhead lights were briefly overwhelmed by a bright green glow. He dared to peep out from under the tablecloth to see what had happened.

Part of the room was on fire. Green flames danced over several tables like candles, turning their cloths into wicks. Some of them began withering, breaking apart and collapsing. Then the giant turned his way.

He quickly slipped back into the shadows and skittered away as fast as he could. A loud whining noise heralded another mechanical shriek. A column of green plasma jetted across the room and slithered over several tables; Noah's included. He saw the tablecloth around him light up and in seconds he was surrounded by a wall of flames.

He pulled back to the center to get as much distance between himself and the fire as possible. It didn't do him much good. He winced at the heat coming from the wooden leg, the one support that the table had.

Amid his racing thoughts, he remembered what Mrs. Graves had always taught his class to do during fire drills. Stop, drop and roll. He was dissuaded from trying it out since he couldn't see any way for him to pull off the last step. He was persuaded, however, to try something new after spotting a point where the table leg grew narrow. Desperation combined with the growing heat caused the idea to kick in on its own. Before he knew it, he was using his knife to saw his way through the support. He heard the table start to crack overhead and doubled down.

After he'd made a decent cut, he laid back and brought his full weight to bear, kicking the spot. He heard the wood crack a bit more. Even though it hurt his foot, he did it again. The crackling fires and raining embers were beginning to close in around him as he gave his strongest kick. With a loud CRACK the leg split in half. He leaned into it with his foot and caused the upper half to fall towards him, taking much of the table with it and creating an opening on the other side. He took his teacher's advice to heart and rolled for his life, passing under the wall of flame as it curtained over him and crashed behind him.

He emerged out into the open and wasted no time crawling behind the next table. The sound of the giant's third barrage ended abruptly. He heard it groan as it turned back in his direction. He was ahead of it now and right next to the dance floor. One solid run, a jump onto the stage and another dash was all he needed to be home free.

That and to get rid of the giant's attention.

Peering out from behind his refuge, he saw it stomping over to where he'd just barely escaped from. It must have noticed something was out of the usual. He didn't want to give it anything else to notice and stayed put while it passed by. It stopped to investigate the debris. Not finding him, it looked this way and that.

Noah did the same and eyed the last stretch to the stage.

The backstage door opened. The barrel of a gun peeked through, lowering to reveal the cautious face of none other than Mr. Mitchell. Both of them saw each other and one relieved smile met another. Mr. Mitchell quickly put a finger to his lips and held up a hand for him to stay where he was.

As he entered the room, he took soft and swift steps over to one of the large stage curtains and crouched behind it. Three more came out after him. Noah was filled with increasing joy at each face he recognized: Ms. Turner, Sará and his mom. Their expressions shifted between reassurance at seeing him and worry at seeing the giant. It hadn't spotted them yet and they spread out behind the other curtains.

The heavy footfalls grew louder. The Hunter groaned and stalked off onto the dance floor to look around, unaware of the four new arrivals at its back. Its spines bristled. It turned again, back to where Noah was and made a slow approach.

His heart pounded in his chest. It boomed in his ears, its rhythmic clamor drowned out only by the footsteps and a strange vibrating noise. The last one shifted his attention to Mr. Mitchell who was leaning out from his curtain. In his hands he held what looked like a green fireball. He raised it towards the ceiling.

Noah realized he was holding an alien pistol just as he let it rip.

The fireball zipped across the ballroom and splashed into something overhead. Metal sizzled and creaked. Something snapped.

The giant heard it and rounded on the stage, growling furiously at the sight of the others. Noah watched it raise its glowing claw-hand before a massive weight crashed on top of it. It was a chandelier. The surprise impact knocked it to its knees. Its claw still whined as it prepared to fire.

His mom's voice pulled him into action. "RUN!"

He ran.

He didn't get far.

He'd reached the dance floor before a thousand fists punched him in the back. He crashed onto his stomach. Winded, he felt shards of wood pelt him all over. He still picked himself up and stumbled forward.

His mom and the others beckoned to him from the stage and urged him to run faster. Halfway across the dance floor he glanced back to find the giant covered in its own flames. It was trying to shrug off the wreck of the chandelier. Behind it, a set of doors blew off their hinges as a second giant burst into the room.

It stomped in, saw what was happening and let out a throaty growl as it aimed its claw-arm. The others fired first with a cascade of bullets that forced it back behind its shield. By then, Noah had cleared the dance floor and leapt onto the stage.

The air heated up and his world brightened. A column of green fire shot over him. Striking one of the curtains, it shifted from left to right like a fire hose, burning them to ash. Noah ran right underneath it. He kept pumping his legs, not stopping until he had passed the curtains, passed Sará, Ms. Turner and Mr. Mitchell and jumped into his mother's arms.

Everything was a blur after that.

He heard her shout something to the others. He heard them running, the giants growling, the fire spreading and a door shutting. Then they were off, speeding down hallways and up staircases. He didn't hear much of what went on thereafter. He was too wrapped up in latching onto his mom as she carried him, feeling her pressing his head protectively into her shoulder as he cried. He was happy, so happy that he couldn't get a word in. Instead, he listened to her say again and again that everything was going to be alright and slowly began believing it more and more each time.

Lupus et Agnus - The Wolf and the Lamb