Marcus chose the stairs, pushing recklessly up them. Duke wasn’t waiting for him on the first landing, and he didn’t hear the Sheriff’s boots on the steps above him. He had guessed wrong. The Sheriff had taken the elevator, but to which floor? Retreating to the lobby, he tapped the controls. The cab had stopped on fourteen, the top floor. Would Duke stay there or come back down via the stairs? Or would he go up to the roof? Too many possibilities.

  At least he knew Duke was in the building.

  Breathing heavy after their long run, the two Custodians that had fallen behind him came through the doorway, their boots crunching loudly on the broken glass. They had picked up their fallen comrades’ sidearms, and were eager to get even with the Sheriff for their deaths.

  “You, wait here,” Marcus told one. “You take the elevator up to fourteen. I’ll go up the stairs. If you see the Sheriff, scream as loud as you can.”

  Tell them to wait.

  “Wait?” Marcus asked, perplexed.

  Put your left index finger in their noses.

  “What?”

  Do it.

  “I’m going to put my finger in your noses.”

  “What are you talking about?” one of them asked, obviously unsettled by the warning.

  Marcus rammed his index finger into the first Custodian’s nose, pointing the blaster in his right hand at the other. He didn’t feel anything happen, but the Custodian didn’t fight back, his body relaxing. Marcus repeated the move with the other, finding he didn’t need to hold his gun to the first to keep his compliance.

  “What did I just do?” he asked, the question meant for Iagorth.

  “Transferred a moiety,” one of the Custodians replied, though it became clear Iagorth spoke through him. “A division of a division. Useful to force compliance and to capture their surroundings. If they encounter the Sheriff, we will know it.”

  “Nice trick.”

  The moieties won’t survive long. They are immature. Now go.

  Marcus returned to the stairs, beginning his ascent. If the Sheriff tried to come down he would hear him. And Duke couldn’t use the elevator while the Custodian was using it. He also couldn’t get back to the ground floor without the other Custodian intercepting him.

  He didn’t have the Sheriff trapped just yet, but he was close.

  He climbed the stairwell, from the first floor to the tenth with no sign of Sheriff Duke. He had reached the eleventh floor when Iagorth’s voice split his mind.

  Fourteen. The elevator. The host is dead.

  Marcus hurried out of the stairwell, tapping the button to call for the elevator. If Duke tried to come down in it, it would stop on this floor. He went back to the stairwell door, covering both routes.

  I’m sending the other host to you.

  Marcus waited until the second Custodian arrived. Duke didn’t try to come down by either route.

  “Watch the elevator and the stairs,” Marcus ordered the man. Then he returned to the stairs, climbing to the top floor and moving into the hallway. The entire building seemed abandoned. Most of the LEDs along the corridor had gone out, leaving only dim light to navigate by. The doors to the apartments all hung open and scattered litter dotted the floor.

  Marcus moved cautiously along the corridor, aware that Duke could be behind any of the doorways, waiting to ambush him. He didn’t think the Sheriff could sneak up on him. Not with his enhanced hearing and sense of smell. Even now, he was picking up a hint of something filling the hallway. Not fear. The Sheriff wasn’t afraid. At least not yet.

  He held a blaster in each hand, checking each apartment before moving on. They were small units, a living room and kitchen combo with a bathroom and bedroom on one side—each one a mirror image of the next. They had been ransacked a long time ago, anything of value taken and the rest left to rot. Sheriff Duke wasn’t in any of them. Marcus could tell by the smell, beginning to understand how to use it to track his quarry.

  He crept along the hallway into an intersection, the scent becoming a little stronger. He dropped his hands and the guns in them to his sides and closed his eyes, paying attention to where the pheromones wafted from. He heard movement a moment later and spun around, guns coming up and shooting before he had even opened his eyes.

  Sheriff Duke stumbled back through the doorway he had emerged from, his right arm limp at his side, his sleeve smoldering from the plasma blast that had wounded him. Marcus’ second shot sizzled harmlessly into the doorframe.

  Marcus sprinted toward the apartment, getting careless in his eagerness to see if he’d managed to shoot off Duke’s arm with his first shot. It would be sweet revenge, but he didn’t even get a chance to look. The Sheriff barreled out of the doorway, hitting him with his shoulder and lifting him up and over his back. Marcus landed roughly on the floor. He scrambled to his feet, putting his new hand up in desperate defense as Duke fired the Axon gun. The round exploded against his palm, shattering the dark matter all the way up to the elbow. Pieces of it embedded themselves in the floor and walls, and one sliced across his cheek as he turned his head away to protect his eyes. He looked back just in time to catch the shock on the Sheriff’s face when the inhuman stump protruding from Marcus’ shoulder morphed into multiple tentacles.

  “Duke,” Marcus ground out, bringing his blaster up in his other hand. The Sheriff barely pushed it aside in time, the superheated gas burning the side of his face. He tried to shoot back, but the tentacles grabbed the Axon gun and yanked it from his grip, throwing it away.

  “Marcus, wait,” Duke said. “I don’t want to fight you again.”

  “Too bad,” Marcus replied, bringing a knee up into the Sheriff’s gut.

  Sheriff Duke grabbed Marcus’ leg, throwing him into the wall and pinning him against it.

  “What happened to your arm?” the Sheriff asked as the tentacles wrapped around his wrist and squeezed. Even with the pressure, the Sheriff didn’t cry out. He reared back, punching Marcus in the head with his other hand. Once. Twice.

  Marcus barely felt it, catching Duke’s fist before he could land a third blow. “You did this,” he growled back. “This is because of you. I’m here because of you. They’re dead because of you!” He shoved the Sheriff back, sending him into a window.

  And through it.

  38

  Hayden

  Hayden looked up at the window Marcus had just thrown him through as he fell toward the ground from fourteen floors up. He had already taken note of the dumpster underneath the window and knew his only hope for survival lay in the random chance of whether or not there was anything soft inside the metal container.

  It didn’t take him long to find out, though the few seconds of airtime gave him just long enough not to wonder what the hell had happened to Marcus, but to silently curse that he was already too late to prevent Iagorth, Devourer of the Relyeh, from beginning his conquest of Earth.

  Marcus’ head leaned out of the window just before Hayden smashed through the plastic top of the dumpster and into the pile of garbage inside it. His breath exploded out of him, and there was pain. A lot of it. He heard bones break. Or maybe it was wood snapping from the impact of his body weight.

  He sucked in air as nails in the wood pierced his bodysuit, sinking deep into the flesh of his back, rump and thighs. Pinned there atop the garbage—at least for the moment—glass rained down around him. The shards cut his face and hands, but he didn’t move. Didn’t even blink. He could feel blood running out of half a dozen holes in his body, and everything hurt like hell, but he forced himself to lay there, his body limp, his eyes open as if the fall had in fact killed him. He wasn’t sure if Marcus would buy the act, but it was worth a shot.

  Marcus continued staring down at him, but only for a few seconds. Then he vanished from the window, no doubt on his way down to make sure he was dead.

  Hayden shoved the ragged remains of the lid off him and gathered himself, gritting his teeth as he pulled himself free of the nails. His back first. Then his legs. And finally his butt. He shifted to the edge of the dumpster, lifting himself up and rolling out over the lip. He growled at the pain that swept through him as he pulled off a two-foot board still nailed to his back. The small wounds would heal within a few minutes, but he knew he didn’t have that long before Marcus arrived.

  He had dropped the Axon gun during the fighting, which meant Marcus had probably picked it up. Not that the guy needed another gun. Hayden picked up the board he had discarded, ready to use it as a weapon. He also retrieved the Axon microspear from his pants pocket as he ducked down behind the dumpster. He hadn’t been able to outrun Marcus before. He certainly wasn’t going to beat him in a footrace now.

  It took about a minute before Hayden heard footsteps coming around the front of the building. Two pairs. Marcus had someone with him.

  As Hayden stayed tucked beside the dumpster, he wondered if Vazquez had made it out of the group of Custodians in one piece. Marcus had ratted him out to the entire group, and they all knew he was with her. She would be a traitor in their eyes. A problem to get rid of as soon as possible.

  He had to believe she could take care of herself since there was nothing he could do about her situation right now anyway. He took a moment to lament that Vazquez hadn’t gotten to ask Captain Rogers where he had been. The pilot knew something they could use, but they would never find out what it was now.

  And maybe they didn’t need the information. At least, not from him. Marcus had the alien inside him or connected to him in some way. He had likely been to the source and knew its location. All he had to do was…

  What?

  Kill the alien without killing Marcus? That was impossible. He had never been able to use the microspear to kill a Relyeh without killing its host. He had to be careful to stab an uninfected human without accidentally killing them.

  The footsteps reached the alley and stopped. Hayden could picture Marcus standing there, watching. He would need to get closer to check the dumpster. To see he was still there, still dead inside. Hayden just had to be patient.

  One of the two pairs of feet started down the alley. They were too heavy to belong to Marcus. Smart man, he had sent the Custodian to take a peek. Hayden pushed himself down a little more, pressing himself tighter into the tiny nook between the dumpster and the wall. He saw the top of the clone’s head as the man looked down into the dumpster before turning back toward Marcus.

  “He’s—”

  “Right here,” Hayden said, getting the Custodian’s attention as he sprang from behind the dumpster, swinging the nailed board at the man’s head. When the Custodian caught his forearm, he jabbed the microspear into the man’s chest. The alien weapon expanded internally, seeking and destroying the Custodian’s heart, causing the clone to collapse in Hayden’s arms. Hayden held onto him, lifting him off the ground as Marcus started shooting, plasma blasts sinking into the dead man’s back instead of Hayden’s chest.

  Hayden carried the Custodian toward Marcus, throwing the dead man at him when he was close enough. Marcus sidestepped the body while trying to get a fresh bead on Hayden. His arm still writhed with alien tentacles, the oily black arms too short to reach Hayden unless he made the mistakes of getting too close.

  With the board, he didn’t need to. He swung it hard, bringing it down on Marcus’ human arm to drive the nail through the muscle just above his wrist. Unable to hold onto the blaster, it fell from his grip. Marcus reacted by jump-kicking at Hayden, foot lashing out at his jaw. Hayden barely moved his head in time, spinning and sweeping his leg across Marcus’ other ankle, taking him down.

  Marcus landed on his back, face twisted as he caught Hayden’s boot half an inch from his face, throwing him off with enough force that he went fully airborne. Hayden flipped over, landing on his feet and getting his arms up to block a powerful punch that sent him stumbling backward. It amazed him that Marcus could hit that hard with his maimed arm. He swung back, a quick jab that Marcus ignored. The tentacles reached out for him again, and Hayden threw himself backward, stumbling and nearly falling before he could regain his balance.

  They rounded on one another, the wound in Marcus’ wrist from the nail no longer bleeding. It was already half healed.

  “What did he promise you, Marcus?” Hayden asked. “What lies is he telling?”

  “What do you know about it?” Marcus hissed back.

  “A lot more than you think. The universe is a lot bigger and badder than you realize.”

  “You think I don’t know?” he turned his tentacled arm toward Hayden. “Look at me. I’m a monster.” He paused and shook his head, eyes wild. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. All I wanted was a new arm, to replace the one you took from me.”

  “I wouldn’t have taken it if you hadn’t insisted on fighting me. If you didn’t try to be so much like your dad, you’d—”

  “He’s alive!” Marcus shouted at him. “Did you know that, Sheriff? King is alive!”

  “What?” Hayden said, the statement taking him off-guard.

  Marcus didn’t just attack him then. He moved, vanishing from his current position and reappeared right next to Hayden, his hand clasped around Hayden’s throat. He lifted Hayden off the ground and body slammed him on the pavement, landing on top of him, his knees pinning Hayden’s upper arms in place.

  “I’ve been waiting for this,” Marcus growled, though it wasn’t Marcus at all. His eyes were completely black. “It was almost too easy.” He sneered, his grip tightening on Hayden’s throat.

  Hayden tried to free his arms, but for whatever strength he had, Marcus was stronger. He couldn’t move.

  And he couldn’t breathe.

  “Iagorth,” Hayden managed to choke out.

  “You’ve been talking to my brother again, haven’t you?” Iagorth asked. “For real this time. Your world is mine, Sheriff Duke. I hunger, and I will feed on it. Devour it. Starting with you.”

  Hayden’s body was getting weaker, his lungs beginning to burn from lack of air. He didn’t have a chance against the Relyeh.

  Had he ever?

  He stared up at the black eyes, determined to be defiant until the end. If he were going to die, he refused to die afraid.

  “Marcus, what are you doing?”

  Fairy’s frantic voice came from the mouth of the alley, and Marcus reacted immediately, jerking his head around to lock eyes with her. The black of his eyes suddenly vanished and his grip on Hayden loosened.

  “Fairy?” he said softly, letting go of Hayden entirely to stand and stare at her.

  Hayden didn’t waste even the seconds it took to cough and suck in a gulp of air. It took every ounce of his remaining strength to recover and sit up at the same time, his forearms driving into the backs of Marcus’ knees. They buckled and he went down face first, turning back over just in time for Hayden to head butt him in the nose. Blood flew and Marcus cried out before covering his bloody face with his human hand. Hayden took the opportunity to drive the microspear into the center of what remained of his alien left arm.

  Marcus’ cries turned inhuman, his head turning to look with horror at the matte black blade buried in his pitch black appendage.

  “No. He is mine!” He locked panicked black eyes on Hayden. “You can’t…”

  The arm shriveled, the black matter melting into dark ooze that splashed onto the pavement before sizzling and fading away.

  Marcus’ eyes faded back to normal and he collapsed.

  39

  Hayden

  Hayden leaned over Marcus, putting a pair of fingers to his throat.

  “Marcus!” Fairy screamed, rushing over to where he had fallen. “Sheriff Duke, is he…”

  “He’s alive. Just barely,” Hayden replied, though even he wasn’t completely sure how. He had never used the microspear on anyone infected by the Hunger and seen that person survive. “We need to get out of here. The Custodians know who I am.”

  “Paul is on his way,” Fairy replied. “He told me what happened so I came looking for you. I saw a group of soldiers headed back toward the southern gate, where their base is. I think they have Maya.”

  “Damn it,” Hayden cursed, teeth clenching. He had hoped she might have slipped away. “Go back to the street so Paul doesn’t pass us by.”

  “Yes, sir,” Fairy said, glancing at Marcus again before rushing back out of the alley.

  Hayden reached under Marcus, gently hoisting him up over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Hang in there, kid,” he said, packing him down the alley toward the street. He was almost to Fairy at the street corner when a loud siren blared, lasting just a few seconds before it gave way to a voice over a loudspeaker.

  “Citizens of Haven. This is Governor O’Malley. The inner settlement is now under Level Three lockdown. I repeat, the inner settlement is under Level Three lockdown. Any civilians still on the streets by the end of this alert will be considered enemies of the people and shot on sight. You must return to your homes, place of business or a designated emergency shelter immediately. I repeat, any civilians still on the street will be met with violence. That is all.”

  “Shit.” Hayden stopped next to Fairy to look up and down the street. There weren’t many residents on the street to begin with. The few non-militants who remained immediately began running for safety, wherever that safety happened to be. Hayden spotted the Custodians, one group moving south to their barracks, while the other had regrouped and was coming their way. One of the militants in that group immediately spotted them. He motioned to the others and they all drew their weapons, breaking into a run.

  Hayden shifted Marcus higher on his shoulder, reaching behind him and finding the Axon gun tucked into the kid’s pants. He drew it with his free hand and started shooting, not even bothering to aim. A pair of Custodians were hit, the projectiles detonating inside their flesh and creating grievous wounds.