“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Caleb said. “Excellent work. Carry on.”

  “Yes, sir.” She immediately turned away to bark at a group of armorers to move a little faster uploading the last of the Stilettos with their full complement of missiles.

  Sergeant Etti guided Caleb and the others across the hangar to the dropship, the Org Marines stopping and coming to attention as they passed, the requisite salutes exchanged. Caleb could feel their eyes follow him, the strange human in the skintight alien suit, as he passed them. They had responded to the call to arms with calm professionalism and zero hesitation, but they had to be wondering what exactly it was that they had gotten themselves into.

  He couldn’t help but wonder the same thing.

  57

  Hayden

  Hayden kept his eyes closed and his head leaned back against the bulkhead of the Rapture, still feeling a little nauseous as a result of the space fold that took the Invincible from Rig Six to the middle of deep space, close to Nyarlath’s damnation.

  The comm had been silent for the last few minutes leading up to the fold and had remained quiet for a few seconds after it. Hayden knew it was the last period of quiet he would experience for a while—maybe the last he would experience in this lifetime—and he wanted to enjoy it.

  There was no smooth transition from silence to chaos. No way to prepare for the sudden turmoil that interrupted his peace, exploding across the comm.

  “All ships, evasive maneuvers!” Captain Lewis shouted across the comm. “Fire at will! Repeat, fire at will! Rapture, this is Captain Lewis. You are cleared to launch immediately.” Hayden sensed tension and fear in her voice. He opened his eyes.

  “Roger, Captain,” Commander Song replied stiffly.

  Hayden looked across the hold to the Org Marines buckled into the row of seats opposite him. They had listened to Caleb’s rallying speech an hour ago and had come away from it with an air of confidence, but now he could see that confidence rapidly fading.

  The Rapture shuddered, a distant groan coming from somewhere else on the Invincible, followed by an echoing crack. Hayden turned his head, looking at Caleb. Something was happening. Something bad. But there were no windows in the Rapture’s hold. No way to know what was going on outside. Although Caleb’s eyes were shrouded by the Skin, Hayden could see the tension in him, his hands curled into tight fists resting on his thighs.

  “Cal?” Hayden said.

  “Too close. We came out too close.” He shook his head. “Song, get us the hell out of here!”

  “I would love to, Colonel,” Song replied. “The launch doors are closed.”

  “Blast them if you have to, we need to get out of here.”

  “Caleb, what’s going on?” Hayden asked.

  “It’s a trap. A damned trap. They knew we were coming. They were waiting. The Organization was compromised. Somebody sold us out.”

  The ship shuddered again, another echoing crack audible from beyond the dropship’s hull.

  “Hold on, Marines!” Song snapped, barely giving Caleb time to grab onto the bulkhead before the Rapture shifted, throwing the thirty Marines loaded into the hold sideways in their seats. The dropship rotated in place and then jerked hard as a missile whistled free of its underwing pod. An explosion went off directly ahead of them. “Hangar breached,” Song shouted. “Attack squadrons, let’s get the hell out of here!”

  Everyone was yanked to the side as the Rapture shot forward, gaining speed.

  “Captain Lewis, Rapture is clear of the Invincible,” Song reported. “Attack squadrons are exiting hangar bay.”

  There was no reply.

  Hayden stared at Caleb. There were no ports in the bulkheads, in effect blinding him to what was happening. And he hated not being able to see what was going on around them. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do but wait for updates from Caleb, who was somehow able to see the action beyond the hull.

  “One hundred kilometers to the target,” Song said. “Blue Squadron, on my six. Red Squadron, Yellow Squadron, flanking positions.”

  “Rapture, this is Captain Raven on Fierce. Launch bays are open, and Stilettos are launching to cover. We’ll—”

  Raven’s voice vanished.

  “Red Squadron, stay tight,” Song said. “Do not...I repeat...do not break formation.”

  “This is Red One, I’m—”

  “Yellow Six, you’ve got three bogeys on your—”

  “Blue Four, break left. I’m on the bastards.”

  The chatter crashed across the comm like an ocean wave, the general channel Hayden was tuned to picking up bits and pieces from every other channel. He couldn’t see the battle unfolding, but it didn’t take a genius to suss out what was going on.

  This was no fight.

  This was a damned massacre.

  The Rapture shifted again, the changes in direction pulling Hayden to the left before nearly lifting him from the bench against the bulkhead and then shoving him back down in it. Song was making sharp and severe evasive maneuvers, desperately trying to avoid whatever was out there.

  “This is Blue Two, I’ve got a lock. Scratch one.”

  “Nice shot Blue Two. Get—”

  The comms continued as a series of pleas for help mingled with attempted orders that were cut off and never completed. Hands clenched, Hayden’s heart began to race. He couldn’t believe this was happening. After everything they had gone through to get here, was he going to die in the hold of a dropship completely removed from the action?

  “This is Captain Yule on Formidable. We’re taking severe damage. We need to fall back. We need to fall back now!”

  “Who’s idea was this? We can’t hurt this thing. We-—”

  “We’re all going to die!”

  Hayden grabbed his helmet, tempted to tear it from his head and throw it across the hold. The pilots outside were being routed, their fear palpable in their voices as they tried to help one another or run for safety. They had expected adversity. They had planned to run into opposition.

  But they hadn’t planned for this.

  He was going to listen, damn it. Listen and remember. The people out there were dying for him. To save his life and keep his mission and hope—and Natalia’s memory—alive. He owed it to them to feel their fear and pain. He owed it to them to try to stop it.

  But what could he do?

  He glared at Caleb. He wanted to scream at him to do something, as if that would help. The Marine was motionless, upright but loose in his restraints. If not for his clenched fists, he would look like he was asleep. Or perhaps his mind was somewhere else. Somewhere far away.

  “Cal?” Hayden said, suddenly worried. “Cal, can you hear me?” He leaned in, reaching for the Skin’s cowl. “Cal?”

  Caleb’s hand snapped up, grabbing Hayden’s wrist. “We hear you, Sheriff,” Caleb said. Only it didn’t sound like Caleb. The voice was too short. Too sharp. “Let us focus, or we’re going to die.”

  58

  Caleb

  Caleb wasn’t aware of the battle raging outside. Not anymore. He wasn’t aware of the Organization Marines sitting pinned to the bulkheads of the Rapture’s cargo hold, even though he was sitting among them, packed so tightly he could smell their sweat and fear.

  Fear. He was aware of that. He could taste it too, thick and juicy with every breath. It was the fear that was guiding him. The fear that was strengthening him and letting him be where he was without succumbing to the pressure or the power.

  “We hear you, Sheriff,” he heard Ishek say as a vague echo in the back of his consciousness. “Let us focus, or we’re going to die.”

  Focus. He needed to keep his focus. Ishek had warned him of the danger of what he had decided to do. If he failed, there might be no coming back. No life beyond the Collective. But what choice did he have? Someone had alerted Vyte to their approach. Someone had told them not only that they were coming but where and when they would emerge from the fold—too precisely for it to be coincidental. The damnation was waiting, its fighters already launched, its weapons systems primed and ready. It was like jumping into the middle of a beehive and immediately being set upon by a million angry bees.

  It was death. Instant, definitive death. It was a small miracle Song had kept the Rapture from destruction, a testament to the Organization pilots’ willingness to die for the cause. They were doing everything in their power to run interference and get the dropship to the Relyeh warship.

  It wasn’t enough.

  Caleb knew they were in deep trouble the moment his mind was able to process the full view of the battlefield, available to him through the eyes of one of the Hunger’s fighters. Their ships were partially organic, the minds within them relatively easy to control. He had only risked taking control of one so he could see, but he had captured more than that before.

  Either way, seizing one of Nyarlath’s fighters this close to Nyarlath was certain to draw her attention. Caleb didn’t want the Relyeh Ancient to take him by surprise again, and there was only one way he could think of to stop the slaughter before the Rapture—and his body—were destroyed.

  “Nyarlath,” he said, finding her on the Collective. She was closed to him, and too powerful to force open. She would either answer his call and let him in, or they were going to die. “I’ve come to help you. I can’t do that if you don’t stop the attack.”

  In his mind, he was standing on a precipice of darkness and shadow. Nyarlath’s connection to the Collective was a door of ancient and knotted wood. He waited for it to open.

  “I know Vyte is hurting you. I know he’s controlling you. But we can end this together. You just need to give us a chance.”

  The door remained sealed. Caleb could sense Ishek in the distance, listening to the dying on the comms and feeding off the fear of the people around them. That fear was giving him strength, and he used it to call out to Nyarlath again.

  “Let me in. You wanted freedom. I’m delivering it to you.”

  Caleb waited in silence for a few more seconds. He had hoped she would let him in regardless of the punishment Vyte might inflict. It was the only way she would ever escape him.

  “Nyarlath, you need to—”

  Caleb stopped talking when the door groaned, squeaking open barely a centimeter. It was all he needed to push his way through, from the dark precipice to the lake he had seen the first time she had brought him here.

  As before, the pale white humanoid was there, floating above the water.

  Caleb Card. You have come to set us free?

  “I’ve come to help you,” he repeated. “I’m on the ship headed for you right now. The one the other ships are defending. You need to stop the attack and let me through.”

  I cannot. I hunger.

  “You must, or you’ll remain Vyte’s slave forever. The Hunger will fall. All of your brothers and sisters will be enslaved. Shub-nigu will die.”

  Nooo!

  Nyarlath’s cry shook the entire empty world she had created. The lake vanished. So did the white humanoid. They were replaced by the real Nyarlath, her hybrid eyes glowing blue in the darkness of her prison, her tentacles writhing around her.

  He will kill us.

  “Not if we kill him first,” Caleb replied.

  You can’t. Impossible.

  “Did you even think I would make it this far, this fast? I can and will. I have a secret weapon.”

  What kind of weapon?

  “Sheriff Duke.”

  What is a Sheriff Duke?

  Caleb smiled. “The greatest weapon on Earth.”

  Nyarlath’s eyes glowed slightly brighter for a moment. Her mouth shifted. Thousands of teeth rubbed together, creating an awful sound.

  Intriguing. But you refused me before. Why should I trust you now?

  “Look outside your ship. We both know I can’t defeat you. But then what? You stay Vyte’s slave for the rest of eternity? You’re thousands of years old. Is that how you want to spend the next thousand?”

  Nyarlath didn’t answer right away. Her blue eyes flickered and her teeth ground together as if she was in pain. Caleb didn’t need her to tell him what was wrong.

  Vyte was trying to get in.

  “Fight him. Help me fight him. I’ll free you from your slavery. Call off the attack on our ships.”

  Nyarlath’s tentacles writhed and spasmed. She shook visibly, teeth gnashing, eyes glowing.

  Go, Caleb Card. You don’t have much time.

  59

  Hayden

  Hayden kept his eyes glued to Caleb.

  Waiting.

  For the Marine to return to his body.

  For his breathing to cease.

  For the Rapture to be destroyed.

  For everything to end.

  Or begin.

  “What the...?”

  The immediate question over the comm from one of the pilots tore Hayden’s focus away from Caleb.

  “Formidable, do you see that?”

  “They’re retreating. Why are they retreating?”

  His head whipped back to Caleb, eyebrows raised as Caleb started to laugh. Or Ishek began to laugh.

  “What’s going on?”

  “This is Rapture.” Commander Song’s voice was ecstatic. “The path is clear. I’m going in.”

  “He did it,” Ishek said.

  Hayden was almost afraid to let himself smile. He could hardly believe it was true. “Did what?”

  Caleb turned his head to look at Hayden. His whole demeanor seemed to have changed, and Hayden realized he was back in his body.

  “Nyarlath is fighting back against Vyte,” Caleb said. “She opened the door for me. For us.”

  “Why?”

  “I told her I would set her free.”

  “Cal…”

  “I will set her free, Sheriff,” Caleb said. “She’s a slave to Vyte. I’ll end that. We’ll end that.”

  “By killing her?”

  “And taking her QCT.”

  “That’s fighting dirty, Caleb.”

  “I know. But you need to fight like a Relyeh if you’re going to defeat a Relyeh.”

  Hayden stared at Caleb without speaking. He’d always tried to cling to some kind of moral code. It was ingrained in his sense of duty and justice. But why? The enemy had fooled him. Lied to him. Used him. Then they had taken away more than he was ready to give. Maybe Caleb was right. If Nyarlath were in their position, she would do the same thing to them.

  But she wasn’t a sheriff. He was supposed to be better than that.

  Wasn’t he?

  He stared at Caleb without speaking. Caleb stared back, and even though he couldn’t see them, Hayden could feel his eyes challenging him. Was he right? Was one deception worth the survival of humankind?

  Hayden nodded. Yes. It was.

  “Song,” Caleb said. “Get us in asap. It won’t stay quiet for long.”

  “Roger, Colonel,” Song replied. “Hold on. This is going to be a little bumpy.”

  Hayden was pulled against his restraints as the Rapture accelerated, racing toward the damnation. He had only just adjusted to the inertia when the ship began to shake and he was tossed back the other way, the retro-thrusters firing full-bore to slow the dropship to a near stop.

  “We’re in,” Song said. “Touchdown in ten.”

  Everyone began to move, unstrapping themselves and jumping up. Hayden was first to the ramp, and he tapped on the controls to begin lowering it.

  “Fun ride,” Stacker said.

  “Let’s never do that again,” Gray added.

  “Knuckle-up Marines,” Caleb snapped. “A lot of people died getting us here. It’s up to us to finish the job.”

  “Oorah!” the Marines replied.

  The ramp was halfway down when the landers touched the surface. Hayden moved out to the edge of it, drawing his revolvers as he cleared the top of the Rapture. The area they had entered—a cavernous space composed of dark stone with multiple tunnels leading away from it and a large slit revealing the black of space—was obviously a hangar. A static shield he perceived to be a force field kept out the vacuum of space.

  It was empty, all of its starfighters currently active outside the damnation. There were no soldiers present either. No resistance. Caleb had said it wouldn’t last. Nyarlath could only resist Vyte for so long. He glanced at his HUD. According to his ATCS, the air was too nitrogen-rich to breathe freely.

  “Buckets stay on,” Caleb said from behind Hayden. “You start breathing this air, you’ll have about a minute to get back to the ship before you asphyxiate.”

  “I’ll pass,” Stacker said.

  “Copy that,” one of the other Marines replied.

  The ramp hit the damp stone floor. Small puddles filled depressions in the ground, while water dripped from the ceiling far above their heads. Hayden took the lead, moving onto the floor with Caleb and the Marines right behind him.

  “Which way?” he asked.

  Caleb looked at the tunnels and then pointed. “That one. Song, you’re done here. Get out while you can.”

  “Sir?” Song replied, confused.

  “If we win this fight, you’ll have an easy pickup. If we don’t…” He didn’t finish the sentence. They all knew the stakes. There were no other alternatives. “Let’s move, Marines!”

  They all started for the tunnel at a run, rifles level and ready to fire. Hayden’s HUD was clear, the combat network quiet for the moment. The Rapture began to rise behind them.

  They were halfway to the tunnel when a single mark appeared on Hayden’s tactical. The target was coming at them in a hurry. It displayed as human-sized.

  And alone.

  “Caleb, you see this?” Hayden said, wondering for a moment if there was something faulty with his helmet.

  “Affirmative,” Caleb replied. He slowed their advance, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with Hayden, waiting a few seconds for the mark to arrive.

  Behind them, the Rapture started turning, thrusters glowing brighter as Song prepared to guide the ship out and away before Nyarlath lost control.