Dawn of the Void - Chapter 129: There was someone here waiting for me

They rode the elevator to the penthouse in silence. Jelly hovered in the upper corner. James studied the Anima.

“Hey Jelly.”

Que pasa USA?

James paused. For a second he considered asking where that had come from, but then he discarded the notion. “Wanted to say thank you.”

Serenity glanced at him.

“You’re welcome,” said Jelly.

“Seriously.” The elevator doors dinged open. “That was a fatal shot. You brought me back. Thank you.”

“Everybody’s dying, feels like,” said Serenity, pushing off the wall with her hip. “We should really -”

The sound of excited conversation cut her off. James exchanged a hopeful glance with her, then they both rushed out, down the hallway, and into the large bedroom.

Kimmie lay still, her expression serene as always, ignored to one side of the bedroom.

Kerim was sitting up, expression animated, eyes bright, his smile wide. Denzel was scooted in next to him, their arms around each other’s waist.

“James!” Olaf raised both arms. “Kerim has decided to stop being lazy and join us!”

Denzel feigned annoyance. “You mean he decided to stop being a star and come down amongst us mortals, yeah?”

“Hello James,” said Kerim, his expression growing more sober.

James stepped up to the foot of the bed. There were smiles all round. “Glad you chose to come back.”

“Yes.” He considered the words, then gave a sharp nod. “It feels like years since we stood outside Belanger’s house. A lifetime ago.”

“A lot’s happened,” said Serenity, stepping up beside James. “A whole lotta dying.”

“What brought you back?” asked James.

Kerim glanced at Denzel and smiled. “There was someone here waiting for me.”

Denzel’s breath hitched and then he smiled the broadest smile James had ever seen.

“Get a room, you two,” said Yadriel, then raised both palms and grinned. “Oh wait! You done got yourselves a room. Guess I’ll see myself out!”

“I floated for what felt like eons,” said Kerim, ignoring Yadriel with sublime indifference. “I knew that you were all waiting for me, but I sensed something in the depths. Something hidden. I tried to find it, but in the process lost my way back.”

“Find what?” asked Miriam, voice quiet. “God?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“You’re an atheist,” said Olaf. “Secular Muslim, yes? Maybe it was God but you did not recognize him.”

“Believe me, I would love to have faith.” Kerim pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose. “I’ve seen the comfort that faith brings. You think I don’t wish to meet my loved ones in Heaven? But alas. Faith is not a choice. Lacking it, I can but quest feebly with my mind, with my heart. And what I sensed… it was akin to God, but also nothing like it. Powerful, yes, beyond anything I could comprehend. But finite as well.” Kerim paused, mouth open, hesitating as he sought the right words. “It felt connected to what is happening here on Earth. Interested. But I couldn’t reach it. I dove through galaxies – or what felt and looked like them, but couldn’t go deep enough. I was losing my sense of self. I got as close as I could, and at the very end, it sensed me.”

Everybody listened, rapt.

Denzel hugged Kerim around the shoulders.

“And it… was amused. I felt its annoyance and amusement, both. Not love, that was for sure. It cared nothing for me. But I couldn’t stay that deep. Though ‘depth’ isn’t the right metaphor. That far from myself. As if my sense of self were a bungee cord, and I’d stretched it to its very limit. Any more and it would have snapped. So I fled, but found myself lost. I couldn’t remember my name. My past. I knew I had been somebody, something, but what eluded me. So I floated, adrift, until at last Denzel’s face came back to me, and then his name, and with it, the rest came flooding back, and I opened my eyes.”

Denzel’s own eyes glimmered with tears, and he turned Kerim’s chin to kiss him softly on the lips. “Welcome back.”

Kerim pressed his brow against Denzel’s own and closed his eyes.

“You know what?” Serenity gave James a push toward the door. “Yadriel was right. We should give these two a moment. C’mon everyone. Out.”

“Welcome back,” said Olaf, his grin broad.

“Yeah,” said Jason, his smile sincere. “Hasn’t been the same without you.”

“Kerim,” said James as he moved toward the door. “Did you sense Kimmie out there?”

Kerim turned away from Denzel and regarded James, his gaze dolorous. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Damn.” James looked over to where the young woman yet lay. “Let’s hope she comes back soon. Denzel, fill Kerim in on everything that’s happened. What miracles we all chose.”

Denzel nodded and then rested his temple on Kerim’s shoulder.

They all filed out into the living room, Miriam closing the door behind her.

“Hey James,” said Jason. “Not to ruin the mood, but Denzel said you were shot in the head?”

“Fuck, yeah. Take a seat. Got some fun news for you all.”

Everybody listened as James explained what they’d learned. Becca’s return, and the threat of traitors rising up the moment they descended into the Pit.

“Fuck!” Yadriel ran both hands through his hair. “Yo man, we shoulda ganked that bitch when we had the chance.”

“No,” said James tiredly. “I don’t agree. It was the right move to let her go. Killing Bjørn was fucked up enough already. Becca hadn’t done anything to deserve that.”

“But now she’s, what? Leading the Red Light group?” Yadriel paced to the window and stared out over Brooklyn. “Should we try and find her? Tie up loose ends, like?”

“How?” Olaf crossed his arms over his chest. “She wanted us to know she is still here. She would not wait outside hotel. She is hiding now.”

“Maybe Jessica can come up with something?” asked Serenity. “A hunter droid thing?”

“Maybe.” James rubbed at his face. “But she was smart. If I were in her boots, I’d have quit New York until word reached me that Crimson Hydra had gone back into the Pit. What if she’s gone up to New Haven? Or Philly? Or, fuck, just into the woods somewhere?”

Everybody frowned.

“We got a ticking clock. Eight days.” James moved behind the living room bar and picked up a bottle of vodka. “Can the world afford our spending time looking for Becca instead of clearing levels?”

“Depends on how real her threat was,” said Jason. “What percentage of everybody that survived is on the demons’ side.”

“No way to know,” said Serenity. “Fuck. I hate this.”

“Yo, what if we pretend to go down into the Pit and then pop back out, like an hour later?” Yadriel grinned. “Be all like, haha! Got you, bitches!”

Everyone exchanged a look.

“That’s not a terrible plan, actually,” allowed Serenity.

“Not terrible? It’s finesse as hell!”

“We couldn’t tell anyone, not even Hackworth,” said James.

“Teleport right back here,” said Jason. “Surprise the shit out of the traitors.”

“Is good plan,” said Olaf with an approving nod. “Sneaky.”

“You know Yadriel?” Serenity grinned at the youth. “You done good.”

“You make it sound like this is my first contribution!” He threw up his hands. “I’ve killed, like, a bazillion demons, I’ve -”

“OK, we’ll give it a shot.” James poured vodka into a shot glass, and then paused, reflecting on the word play. “Unless they follow us they’ll have no way of knowing. We’ll descend to the Fallen Plains, maybe the Corroded Woods to be safe, then teleport back.”

“Yo, can we teleport down to the bottom?” asked Yadriel.

“To the Sinister Blockade?” James raised his shot glass and considered. “Maybe? Hadn’t thought about it. Something about hell made me think we had to descend the old fashioned way.”

“Be smart to conserve Aeviternum,” said Jason.

“Yeah, but Fortunum Aeviternum means I might not spend it in the first place. And there’s something to be said for arriving there fresh without having to see all that shit again.” James tossed the vodka back. It slid down his throat smoothly. Funny thing about vodka. The more expensive it got, the less it seemed to be there.

“It’s a plan.” Serenity clapped her hands on her thighs and stood. “But first James and I are going to go check out an old bar and see if a friend’s still around. We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“What about the rest of the world?” asked Jason. “Or even LA or whatever. Shouldn’t we get over there and help?”

“I can only teleport to places I’ve been,” said James quietly. “Otherwise, yeah. I’d be in Beijing and Mumbai in a heart beat.”

Jason nodded, his shoulders slumping. “Right. I forgot.”

“OK, let’s hit that bar,” said Yadriel.

“Sorry, just me and James. Old times’ sake,” said Serenity.

“Aw man.” Yadriel pouted. “So much for my thanks.”

“Here’s an idea,” said James. “Head down to Jessica and get each of yourselves an Anima Sola. Jelly just saved my life downstairs. I’m sure you’ll all benefit from the same once we really hit hell.”

Olaf brightened. “Good idea!”

“Ready to go?” asked Serenity.

“Let’s do it.”

Five minutes later they flew out of the garage on a Wing. Serenity leaned her cheek against James’s back as they crossed over the rooftops, both mutely taking in the destruction and death.

Regardless of what the traitor had said, the Nem waves had been catastrophic for humanity. Nobody had assigned clean-up crews, which meant bodies lay where they had fallen. James knew most of them were hidden inside apartments, but plenty of victims had tried to make a desperate break for it by fleeing into the streets or rising onto the rooftops.

There was no sign of demon activity, however; this close to the Marriott meant everything had been wiped out, first by Crimson Hydra and then the other operators.

What was worse was basic extrapolation.

This had happened everywhere.

Every city.

Every country.

Every continent.

James tried to not let it weigh on his soul. His Arete of 800 and Spiritual Exaltation provided a buffer but as the countless dead scrolled by below he felt himself besieged.

Luckily Herman’s bar wasn’t far. James lowered the Wing to street-level so that he could better navigate, and soon pulled up to a stop across the street from the bar.

It was dark and still. If you didn’t already know there was a bar down there you’d never have guessed.

“It’s early for Herman,” said Serenity brightly. “C’mon, let’s get him to open up for us.”

“Serenity,” said James.

But she leaped off the back of the Wing and jogged across the street to stand before the windows. “Herman! Hey, Herm! Open up already!”

James watched, his heart heavy.

Nobody responded.

“Eh, he must be out,” said Serenity. “He won’t mind if we let ourselves in. I mean, it is the fucking apocalypse, after all.”

James tried to find the right words.

“C’mon already! Don’t tell me you don’t need a drink.” And she descended the steps to the almost out-of-sight front door.

“James,” she called. Her voice was wooden and fraught and he leaped off the Wing and was across the street before he’d thought about it. Leaped down to stand next to her, and then froze.

The front door was shattered. Dim light filtered into the bar. The stench was horrendous. Rotting meat and death. James wrapped his arm over his face, mouth inside the crook of his elbow, and squinted.

No lights, of course. But even in the faint afternoon light he could make out the bodies. The toppled stools. The bottles swept from their shelves to lie broken upon the bar.

“C’mon,” he said softly, trying to draw Serenity away.

But she stood rigid. “Herman? Herman!”

“Serenity.” He lowered his arm. “One way or another, he’s not here.”

She rubbed the base of her palm into one eye then nodded. Backed up till her heel hit the step, and pivoted smoothly with her inhuman agility, more by reflex then design. Climbed up the steps to stand staring up at the sky, her expression blank.

“Hey,” said James softly. “You knew the odds of this place still being open were slim, right?”

Serenity closed her eyes. Tears ran down her cheeks. “I know.”

James stared at her helplessly. What could he say?

“I knew.” Her voice was husky with pain. “But you want to hear something stupid?” She looked at him with a wretched smile. “I mean, Grade A-idiot level shit? I’ve been… all this time, like… imagining he was still here. Hanging tough. Slinging drinks, shotgun under the bar. Holding out. And that idea… I mean, I knew it was a fantasy, but that vision, it gave me… a sense that maybe… just maybe…” More tears ran down her cheeks. “Maybe one day things could go back to normal.”

“Shit,” said James in soft commiseration, and pulled her into his arms.

Serenity bowed her head against his shoulder and wept.

They stood there for awhile, neither speaking. Serenity’s shoulders hitched as she sobbed, and on some level James knew this was more than just grief for Herman and his bar breaking forth. This was a dam breaking on all the heinous shit they’d seen. The death and loss, the ruin and catastrophe. Stuff that Arete had helped them deal with for far too long.

So he held her, stroked the back of her head, and when she finally pulled away, wiping at her face, he had an idea.

“You know what?” He bit his lower lip, considered. “Maybe there’s a way to go back there.”

She frowned at him. “To the bar?”

“Yeah. Hold on. I’ve been meaning to look into this.”

He closed his eyes and summoned his statistics sheet. Saw it floating in the darkness behind his eyelids, and focused on the miracles.

On Create Demiplane.