[Warbinger Returns Arc]

Chapter 08

Little Parliament

Geoff just kept shaking his head. Warbinger was unkillable. After witnessing the monster brushing off Hometoll’s most devastating weapons like a summer sprinkler he couldn’t even imagine the Final Cross doing more than slowing it down. For a few seconds, maybe. He changed the magazine in the MGS anyway.

A tear dripped down Lamet’s cheek as she grabbed the microphone that still bounced on its coiled cable near his knee and shouted into it. “I was afraid to believe it! I hoped your weapons were as devastating as you said, and they were! But the legends ring true! Warbinger cannot be killed!”

Geoff gave her a sideways glance as he spoke to her. “You have to… you have to push the button on the side for them to hear you.”

“Damn it all!” she threw the microphone at him and it bounced off his chest and sprung around on its cable.

“This isn’t working.” Deilitus’s exasperated voice came through. The stocky woman was the strongest person Geoff had ever met, excluding the President, but even she could only carry those massive weapons for so long and the Moonbane would soon be taking its toll.

Another of Longhorn’s Rhino shots blasted Warbinger onto his back and Geoff shielded his face from the gale.

“Well you bought me enough time to set up the remote detonators on this thing so I don’t need to go the way of the Martyr… “ Toy trailed off as if he’d forgotten to keep holding the button.

“Good,” said Deilitus. “Barker, Julielle, how much ammo do you have?”

“My boy will be dramatic all night long if you need him to.” replied Barker’s gruff voice.

Julielle answered next. “It would help to have more black powder and processed iron. If you intend to work me all night you could at least find a way to resupply my workshop with those. And nanocells.” she added.

Geoff chimed in after another barrage from Deilitus brought Warbinger’s rising form low in a wall of flame. The silver lining of knowing it would never die was that they could expend their ammunition more efficiently to keep him disabled instead. “Have Lamet send the guardsmen to get that stuff. If you keep the thing down their defence is wasted anyway.” He wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

“Geoff!” Deilitus sounded confident and commanding now. “Your orders are to go to South Hometoll and find Jadded Friar. He’ll take you to President Jasmine.” She went silent for a moment. “Meet them there with the detonators, Toy Guy, and get the Final Authorizat—” The signal broke, only static remained on the channel.

Lamet nodded to Geoff and he shrugged. They started the long run back to the mall where he’d left the squad car. Along the way Lamet disappeared. He kept running while she was gone to organise the puren guardsmen.

He had only crossed one block when Warbinger came sailing over the street and crushed a southern-style chicken restaurant with its landing. The dark interloper’s eyes all swivelled in Geoff’s direction. He ran down an alley. Warbringer clambered overhead, gripping the roofs like a spider in a way that betrayed the false nature of his humanoid form.

Geoff launched three micro-grenades behind him as he exited to the next street. The shots blew out the wall of one of the structures and filled the alley with dust and stone. He made a sharp turn to the left to try and lose the monster, if only for a moment. He felt its eyes on him without turning to look.

A loud, distant bang sounded and Warbinger squealed. There was a crack of stone behind him and scraping sounds that sent a chill through his spine but he refused to look. Longhorn never missed; there was no need to look.

He reached into his bag for his microphone. “Thanks Longhorn.” He took a deep breath. Speaking was not helping his effort to run. “Any chance we can get this off me?” A blood-curdling screech behind him nearly caused him to trip. Warbinger’s Laughter grated his thoughts like he was lost in a storm of cackling crows. The radio was silent.

He kept running down the street. If Warbinger was determined to pursue him he would have to be on the main road. Where Moonbane and the Husky Tantrum could hit them both. Just like old times, eh, Rick?

Geoff looked both ways as he entered the main road of Old Town. Julielle’s mobile workshop had rolled off somewhere and he could see the long barrel of the Husky Tantrum’s rotary machine gun closer to the ruins of the Unity Building. He chanced a look the way he came as he turned right on the main road.

Warbinger was taking a long step towards him. That single step brought him right behind Geoff, rockling the ground beneath his feet. Its back bent so low the eye hung just over his head. He swung the MGS around and fired a round into it. The interloper’s back straightened with the blast, thin strands of flesh dangling like bits of a frayed cloth.

Its arm rose and gave Geoff little time to react. He fired another shot that blew a chunk out of it and then rolled as it smashed the ground, knocking him over just as he rolled to his feet. He pulled the trigger again, hitting the same crippled spot on the arm and it came off with a wet crunch.

Without warning, the dark creature exploded as something tore it apart at the shoulders like a pair of drills, blending the upper part of its body into mulch and spraying it around in twin whorls. Then the bang of the rifle. Longhorn’s Markhor shot.

While Warbinger reeled, Geoff fired three more rounds as he stood up and ran without waiting to see if they hit. The sound of exploding flesh behind him was enough confirmation.

His boots felt heavy on the concrete. Each step took more and more effort. His lungs burned. It was becoming all too obvious that the muscles his wife enjoyed so much were no stand-in for cardio. I should have gone jogging with you Rick. If I survive this we’ll go every day, I swear.

The far-away sound of Barker’s Husky Tantrum spinning its massive gun filled the streets to compete with Warbinger’s Laughter. Geoff barked a laugh of his own. He was about to be in the middle of a big mess. The grotesque mockery of a human was still threading its body back together behind him as he turned off the main road.

The Husky’s rockets flashed through the air and the street erupted with a howling inferno. The deafening choir was second only to the raging fire searing the skin on his left arm as he rounded another corner to take cover in an alley. The wall burst open behind him, showering him with bits of concrete. He sprinted into the next street but Warbinger’s house-long foot crashed through the building in pursuit.

He stumbled as part of a wall rolled into his path, landing roughly against it with one shoulder. The broken humanoid form towering over him struggled to fill its gaping holes, but still reached out for him with a crooked arm dangling with disconnected flaps of eyes. His micro-grenade shotgun made its thunk and blasted three of its fingers into spinning arcs across the road.

Geoff rolled around the slab of wall and ran for the main road. He was nearing the mall now. He laboured to keep his breaths even. Soon he saw the building, collapsed like a deflated cake. The car has to be all right.

Warbinger bent its knees and made a wide sweeping motion with one arm, tearing through the shops behind him. Debris in the battering wind of the attack pelted him like a hailstorm, hitting him hard in his shoulders and back. He tried to keep his head low. Wooden chairs smashed in his path and stones the size of his head sailed by as if they had no weight. A glass door spun in front of him, shattering into a thousand shards as the frame cartwheeled. He ducked through the frame before it fell.

Warbinger swept through the other side of the street in spite of the long Tantrum devastating his body. A wave of tables rolled violently towards him amidst another torrent of stone and glass. He jumped over the curved legs of one that threatened to trip him. As he was in the air the smooth bowl of a toilet shot past his face. He landed and a waste bin crashed close enough that Geoff jumped back into the air reflexively even though there was no need.

Pain shot up through his legs when he hit the ground. He tried to straighten his legs and for a moment he doubted he even could. A prickly bush full of purple flowers smashed into the ground next to him and bounced away, startling him to his feet. He glanced over his shoulder as he forced his legs to move. Piles of rubble filled the street. The monster towered over a cloud of swirling dust and purple petals. More of those bushes rolled to gentle stops as blocks of concrete or table legs caught them.

The Husky Tantrum’s whirring cry slowed to a stop. Worse, the radio was still quiet.

Warbinger’s face contorted into a cone and it suddenly began shovelling debris into its mouth. Geoff panicked, knowing he was finished if that hit him. He slowed enough to aim his gun and fired four quick rounds at the head. Two struck too low, bursting open the creature’s rib cage. One shot blasted a hole in its side, but the last missed completely.

The cone aimed into the distance. Geoff saw his chance and ran for it, but he scanned the horizon for what might have got the thing’s attention. He squinted at something flashing so far off he wasn’t sure he was seeing it. The Cane Tower was so far that only the very top was in view, but something was flashing there.

He recognised it as soon as the first shot arrived. A streak of bright light passed over his head, and with a loud pop suddenly changed directions, taking Warbinger through the side. It left a tunnel through its body and then popped again and flew up to pierce its head.

A dozen more zigzagging shots cut through its limbs and it crumpled into a meaty heap. A section of distended flesh in the horror’s abdomen ruptured and spilled black-tainted rubble back into the street.

That was the Addax Stampede. Geoff was concerned that Longhorn had failed to announce it. Her shots were her favourite thing to say. He finally took the corner to the back of the mall and saw his car parked next to a crater where a piece of the Unity Building had landed earlier. He called on the radio. “Is this getting through?”

Nothing. The most prominent sound was Warbinger’s Laughter incessantly chittering in his ears. Then the radio buzzed and a voice that sounded like a shredded scream came through. “WHY, I AM HAVING SO MUCH FUN. THE PAIN! I WILL RETURN IT A THOUSAND FOLD!”

His body was frozen by a chilling dread. He slid to a stop. Only his head would move. He struggled to drag his feet but it was like they’d been nailed to the ground. Something compelled him to look and he turned slowly to see over his shoulder. Before he saw anything, Lamet appeared from thin air next to him and slapped his face. Her face was dirty and twisted with fear. Her tail swished nervously.

“Leave that thing.” she told him. “If he can speak through it, then it belongs to him now.”

Geoff let the bag slide off his shoulder and fall to the ground. He took a wobbly step towards the car. If he got in now, he could escape Warbinger and follow his orders. His legs carried him to it, numb either from strain, or bruises or sheer mental exhaustion, he couldn’t know. He pulled the passenger side open for Lamet on his way around.

The car was parked facing where Warbinger would be, but he couldn’t see it. He got in, slammed the door and turned the key. Lamet climbed awkwardly in the other side and Geoff hit the gas immediately. He spun the car around and the passenger door swung shut.

“Are you all right?” he asked her as they sped down a side road to the south.

“I will survive for now.” she said, carefully examining every little thing inside the car. “I have Shared the Rite of Tongues with Julielle, so she can instruct the others.”

“Good.” Geoff shook his head. “I hope Toy Guy made it out.”

Lamet made a gesture with her right hand, holding it palm-up for a moment before putting it down.

He gave her a sideways glance, trying to keep his eyes on the road. “What does that mean?” he asked. “With your hand?”

“Oh,” she said. “It is an affirmative gesture. Like your… head bob you do. It can mean ‘yes’, or be used as a welcoming sign.” Lamet paused to watch as they drove under the crooked trunk of an Oval tree, crunching the branches of blue-green leaves that lay in the road. “You can extend your hand with your palm down for ‘no’, although I suppose you will have little need for it here.”

I bet Rick is learning all about this stuff, he thought.

Geoff tried to keep his mind on his mission. Warbinger wasn’t following them, so he had to focus on finding the President. Maybe at some point in the hour-long drive to South Hometoll his heart would even stop trying to beat out of his chest.

Geoff and Lamet remained silent most of the drive. Everything was silent, except the endless pestering of Warbingerg’s Laughter and the occasional distant bang of Longhorn’s gun or a peppering of explosions. He caught a brief glimpse of the Cane Tower as their southward drive brought them closer to it, but it was east of them and was mostly blocked from view by other buildings.

The streets were often trashed with garbage or other discarded things, but almost every car had been taken. The only ground-level windows he saw that weren’t smashed were on buildings where another window already was. His heart ached for the abandoned city. They would find a way to save it.

Eventually they drove into a forested area where the occasional patch of thorny purple bushes or tall blue-green trees looked less abnormal. Lamet admired the green oaks as they crossed a bridge over a river into South Hometoll and the first tops of buildings crept into view beyond the trees.

Geoff was shocked by the number of people still in the streets. As soon as they crossed the bridge the road was crowded with cars, jammed as they all tried to flee Central at once. Spotting an opening, he flashed the siren and squeezed through over the sidewalk. A few taps of his horn scattered anyone in his way and he eventually found a street where traffic hadn’t crawled to a stop. But people were everywhere, and traffic was still sluggish at best.

It felt wrong, but he was glad. Every refugee huddled sadly in the street was one who survived to escape Warbinger’s wrath. At least for the time being. His wife and daughter would be among them, somewhere. He scratched nervously at the burn on his arm. If she saw how dirty he was she would make him sleep the night in the shower.

An empty parking spot caught his attention at the corner of his eye. It was a narrow lot behind a store with a “PRIVATE PARKING - EMPLOYEES ONLY” sign next to it. The way things were it wouldn’t be long before that spot was taken, employee or not. Hell, if it got any worse that shop would be put out of business by looters by the end of the day. She tried not to think about it and made a sharp turn into the lot and parked the car.

“It’ll be faster to walk,” he explained. “Just…” he realised he was about to walk three blocks to Little Parliament with an alien that, as far as most people knew, either wasn’t real or was directly responsible for everything they hated today. “On second thought, you might get stabbed.” He paused to think.

“I have very few spells left.” she said. “Especially Bound.”

Geoff looked back at the street where cars had slowed to a crawl and there was no way out of the lot now even if he’d wanted to idle in traffic the entire afternoon. “It’s three streets over,” he said. “We’re looking for a flat building on a circular lawn with a green hip roof. If Jaded Friar isn’t there, we’ll never find him.”

“Give me a moment,” she said, shutting her eyes. She held her fingers up in a triangle shape and hummed a flat tone. After a few seconds she moved her hands apart and her tone increased in pitch. “I see it.” Her eyes blinked open. “It seems a waste to Horizon Bound so short a distance but I should save my few remaining Bounds. I will meet you there.” She lifted gently out of her seat and vanished.

Geoff shrugged off his surprise from her magic and tried to roll the stiffness out of his shoulders. He stepped out of the car. Eyes turned towards him as he weaved between motionless cars on foot. Whether they looked at this gun or his uniform, he didn’t know or care, but many of them shared a distant forlorn gaze that would have driven Rick mad with desire to aid every single one. Geoff would help them, by following his orders and beating the monster.

One the next block a group of three HDF were directing traffic around a collision and one of the officers dodged around a group of irate civilians and approached him as he failed to pass by unnoticed.

The man sighed. “Are you here to help us out? Finally, I don’t know what’s going on in Central but this is insane.”

Geoff met the man’s eyes with his burned arm cradled on his gun like a makeshift sling. He nodded towards it. “This is a custom 44-round micro-grenade shotgun that belonged to Twin Shot the Marksman during the rebellion.” He leaned forward. “You think I brought this for traffic?”

The other officer was taken aback and Geoff simply walked away while he stumbled for words. He was not in a patient mood today. There were a lot of people in the street that needed help, but he wasn’t Rick. He couldn’t stop to try and help every single one of them, orders be damned. He had to find Jaded Friar and Little Parliament was the best place to start.

He hated that the radio was down though, and regretted impulsively storming off instead of briefing the officer on recent events in Central. At this rate they would be informed by rumours.

Little Parliament was a simple building, previously a library, with carvings of old dead politicians in the wall on the front side. The circular lawn was crowded with people with nowhere to go. They stared nervously as he dragged his legs through the grass. He probably looked like crap and smelled like shit.

Two HDF were near the large double doors trying to look like they weren’t guarding it. That was a relief; the President must be in. Enough of his uniform showed through the layer of dust that they didn’t move to stop him but one of them called out, “You all right?”

“I’m surviving.” Geoff said. He hesitated with his hand on the door. “Radio is down here too, eh?” He said back to the officers.

They regarded him with a familiar weariness. “Everything is. Radio, TV, even the power cuts out sometimes. Phone has been the most reliable.”

Geoff nodded, pushed the doors open and went in.

To his luck, Jaded Friar was standing in the entry hall as he walked in. His large arm was wrapped around Lamet’s neck. His choke-hold held her off the ground, and she had a fistfull of his beard in one hand. An officer beside them prodded her in the side with a stun-gun, and she twitched for a moment before going limp.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the old man spoke first.

“Geoff! Good to see you!” Jade’s wrinkles stretched on his face as he grinned. His bright grey eyes displayed genuine joy at seeing him. “Look what we caught sneaking in here.”

“An actual alien,” the officer said proudly. Lamet gave Geoff a fed-up look that he sorely understood.

“Good to see you Jade.” Geoff pointed to Lamet. “That’s, uh, Lamet the Riteweaver, from Oval.” He explained in a hurry. “She’s my partner while Rick is… wherever he went. Can you not tase her?”

“Partner?” Old Jade growled. “This thing?”

He gave an affirming nod, but scratched anxiously at his eyebrow. “Your whole squad in Central would be dark stains by now if not for her and her alien friends.” He hoped they were still holding out.

Jaded Friar eased his hold on Lamet’s throat and she slumped to the ground. “I’ll take your word for it, Geoff, but…”

“Look,” Geoff said bluntly. “Look at me.” he gestured towards himself with his hands. “I don’t need a mirror to see that I look like I just crawled out of the Earth’s ass. We’ve been fighting that thing all morning, and now Deilitus sent me—and Lamet—to report to President Jasmine. You haven’t heard from her?”

The old man ran thick fingers through his beard. “Communications have been out of whack all day.” He waved the other officer off and nodded to Geoff to follow him. “We have some phone lines up to Central but our radios haven’t reached that far all morning. Now we’re out of range two feet away.”

“The radio is Warbinger’s now.” Lamet said. Jaded Friar gave her a puzzled look and Geoff remembered he had to translate.

Jaded Friar just nodded thoughtfully.

“Didn’t mean to surprise you,” Geoff said, “but it looks like HDF can’t handle the streets as is. I didn’t want to throw aliens strolling around into the mix so she used her magic to get here.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad no one got hurt in the struggle.”

Lamet rubbed her throat in disagreement, but let the subject drop.

He led them through the carpeted halls to a room with no windows and another Pillar, Krimson, lounging at the door with deceptive casualness. Anyone who knew the rogue wouldn’t be fooled into thinking his guard was down. The man gave no sign he even noticed them as they entered the room, but Geoff felt a deep uneasiness as he walked by.

Seated at an elegant mahogany table on plush black chairs was the tall and muscular woman the citizens of Hometoll were proud to call their President. She kept her tight black curls trimmed short and wore a cheap grey suit that looked good on her without being, as she put it, a waste of taxpayer money. Her eyes narrowed at him.

Beside her was another woman, nearly as strong but just as dangerous. With her green eyes and red shoulder-length locks she was as recognizable as the President herself. And was a President herself. Gunhilda Winding, wife of Forgeron the Martyr and President of Martyrsmith Engineering.

Geoff swallowed. The two most powerful people in the city stared at him, eagerly awaiting news from Central. If they were at all concerned about Lamet, they hid it completely from their faces.

President Jasmine spoke first. “Geoff Friction, isn’t it? It has been a long time, but I still remember those eyes. I sent you to topple Fold Tower and against all odds you pulled it off by stealing Twin Shot’s gun from Julielle’s workshop.” Her dark eyes fell to the gun strapped over his shoulder. “And you brought it along, good.”

“That was a long time ago,” he said. Jasmine had been on the front lines of that battle too. She knew it wasn’t easy to remember. It was harder to forget.

Jasmine nodded. “I’m sure you know Gunhilda?”

Geoff shrugged. “We haven’t met. Pleasure to meet you.” He bowed slightly, having no idea what the protocol was for someone like this. Lamet mimicked him awkwardly.

Gunhilda chuckled. “Nice to meet you. I bet there’s a handsome man under all that dust somewhere, eh?”

Jaded Friar laughed deeply and whacked Geoff on the back, knocking a cloud of dust into the air. He nearly crumpled over from the force, but caught himself on the edge of the table. “Don’t be so stiff, boy. We’re all sick of war here. Hell, I've been sick of it since before the last one. Why don’t you tell us what’s going on in Central? You mentioned fighting a ‘thing’ and the name ‘Warbinger’?”

Geoff introduced Lamet and briefed the Presidents on what happened, then added. “On my way out something weird caught my eye. It reminded me of what Lamet said. That until we picked a fight, it had been resting. Like it was tired from the effort of crawling out of that tear in the sky.” He looked at his puren friend and she swung up her hand to face palm up. “It was subtle, so I might be wrong, but I’m sure it’s taking longer to regenerate the more we blow it up. At first it was slow, but when it woke up it could restore itself in a second like nothing. But I swear there were times more recently where it seemed to be struggling.”

Jasmine addressed Lamet. “Do you think it might be possible to defeat it without using the Final Cross? Or at least, do you think it’s possible the Final Cross could do the job?” There was a hopefulness in her voice that spoke to her absence from the battle.

“No,” Lamet said with her palm down. Geoff translated for her as always. “It is a good observation, but just because he tires does not mean he will ever cease regenerating. It is good news if it is true, because it reveals that stalling him may be possible and less dangerous than previously thought, but we will need a Lightweaver to banish him regardless.”

“What is a ‘Lightweaver’? Is this something you can do?” the President asked.

“No,” Lamet frowned. “A Lightweaver is one who has undergone the Rite of Light, but only a rare few are even capable. Typically, no more than one family per settlement has the ability. Those families keep the secret lore of Warbinger’s past, while the rest mock them quietly for believing in myths. I learned what I know of the monster during my quest to undertake every Rite I could, so I know a little more than most, but that mote of knowledge is not enough.”

“So, we need to get to Oval?” Geoff asked hopefully. It would mean bringing Rick home, if they could.

Lamet gave a palm-up. “Even if we could open a way between the worlds, it is more complicated than that. My village only has one who can perform the Rite of Light, and she has not. Nor do I believe she is suitable for this battle as she lacks the use of her legs. We would need to venture to another town and seek their aid.”

Gunhilda added, “So if I understand, we could turn Central Hometoll into an ash wasteland and still be no closer to killing it, but if we want to finish it right it will take a long time.” She sighed. “Well, I have a bit of good news at least. We’ve found a spot where the two worlds seem to be melted together, with a possible way back and forth. If we can reinforce the portal, then all we need to do is figure out how to board the rampaging Leviathan Train.

Geoff’s shoulders sagged. He hated that damn train.