How different they were.
Only the light above was their undoing, and they were Maelstrom just like her, these humans blown up into balls of some crusted rock-like calcified flesh. Their fingers were too thick to use as they should, their joints stiff.
Did it do this to all people? Was this why only the last desperate few had been given thoseMaelstromnanites? With other beasters, the nanites seemed slower to transform. She had stalled for those five years above, while in limbo with the other feeders, waiting to be eaten. Now that she was free of the Ghoul Lords she was changing.
A chill swept her. Where was this taking her?
That night, she lay on her side on a bed in one of the abandoned apartments to let Willow examine her, deathly afraid as she’d never been before. Was her body falling apart? The mattress smelled of dust. The walls were perfectly coordinated in color with the rest of the apartment rugs and furniture. Red, grey and cream. Modern chic. Sculptures from artists of renown sat on the tables. A toy car lay on the floor, though crushed from being under Rutger’s feet.
Vincent was here too, leaning nonchalantly on a wall, as if he hadn’t knocked off part of a door frame to get in here.
“You’ve had a limp, Cyn?” Willow asked softly. She sat on a chair and held Cyn’s hands.
“Yes. But it’s gone now.”
Rutger was perched on the bed above her pillow. Vargr was absent, no surprise there. “And she gets headaches and a few pains. Anything else I don’t know?” He raised his brows.
“Ummm. The pains are mostly when I try to mess with the Lure. And yes, I am still trying now and then. It is important. Ihave been forgetting things but figured that isn’t new. Everyone forgets stuff.”
“True. That is me.” Vincent nodded. “My head is full of rock, though.”
“Pfft,” Cyn scoffed.
“Shush,” Willow drifted her hands higher up Cyn’s arms, the blue in her skin and eyes highlighting in brilliant specks.
In this quiet room Cyn had heard the grit grinding in Vincent’s neck folds when he nodded. Or was that from his spine? She frowned then tried to relax. Willow preferred calmness, right? Again she heard the sotto voce whispering from Willow. It seemed a subconscious action that possibly helped her to concentrate.
After five or ten minutes, Willow released her, giving her hand a last pat. “I can’t find anything like an injury, though there is one anomaly.”
She twisted her mouth. “Good or bad? What is it?”
Willow stood, stretching, then rolled her shoulders while looking down at Cyn. “This is all a new science, if you want to call it that, but I couldn’t detect any nanites in your head, brain area, not even your neck. That’s odd. They normally spread throughout the blood system.”
“Cardiovascular system,” Vincent corrected.
“Oh. Well. Is that bad?”
“Like I said, I don’t know, but I suggest you avoid head trauma.” She smiled weakly. “You might not heal from that anymore.”
“That’s everything? Sorry, I missed most of that.”
The new voice was Vargr’s, and Cyn switched her focus and saw him hovering behind Vincent. He didn’t smile but he did fix her with a stare that said something better than hate.
For which, she gave a big thank you to whoever was in charge above. She sat up and swung her legs off the bed.
“Hi there!” Willow tried to usher him forward, but he stayed where he stood. “Yes. That’s it. That’s all I can detect. If anything else happens, Cyn, be sure to tell me.”
“I will. This was all a storm in a teacup. Pretty sure I’m fine.” She swung her legs back and forth enthusiastically, grinning. Vargr was worrying about her…
39
Two more days of travel,and they’d come a long way too.
Rutger took a gulp of water, wiped his mouth, then tucked the canteen away on his belt. More stories down, more stairs descended or flown—because one of them had been an immense well where the wing-soldiers could wheel down like seagulls on an updraft. It was how Vargr had flown so far when they’d scouted. Apart from a few hungry animals, there’d been nothing hostile.
Having to kill a stray dog that’d gone feral had made him sadder than anything else had recently. For once they were doing something positive, not just scratching about surviving. Beasters might be the ones who would save the world after all, though it was still a very long-term goal, and that had been the reason why all of them had volunteered for the experiment—be the good guys, fuck over these alien invaders. Save the Earth.
He let out a sigh.Still happening.
