The Shift, page 1
Chapter One
“And Cerine Myers has more for us from downtown Newtropolis…”
“Thanks, Ross. I’m here at the site of what police are now calling a sinkhole. It’s…I’d say it’s about ten meters across, roughly circular, and, as you’ve heard, completely unexplained. An ATM atrium and part of a coffee shop have already vanished into the hole, and Newtropolis News has learned that at least eight people were in the area and are presumed to have disappeared into the pit. There have been reports of human voices coming out of the hole, but at this time, those reports are unconfirmed.”
“Thank you, Cerine. And, Cerine, the question that’s on everyone’s mind…”
“Of course, Ross. At this time, officials are still treating the hole as a natural phenomenon, not one of the recent wave of ‘Shift’ attacks. I can tell you, though, that bystanders, including eyewitnesses to the hole’s appearance, are making a different diagnosis. To these people, the sinkhole is one more sign that the Shift has come to Newtropolis—and brought chaos with it.”
“Thanks, Cerine…”
“Yeah, thanks, Cerine,” Brad grunted as he leaned over to turn the volume down. He barely moved his head away from the monitor before saying, “Sounds like another one, for sure.”
“Oh, no, Brad…” Kayla’s voice was light and sweet, a sure sign of insincerity. “I’m sure the police wouldn’t lie to us. I’m sure it’s all perfectly natural.”
“What do you expect them to say? ‘The Shift is here and we have no idea what to do about it, so everybody better run’?” Kenny shook his head before turning back to his computer screen. “And they don’t have to say anything—take a look at the traffic patterns. The cops don’t have to evacuate downtown, the people are doing it all on their own.”
Jack stood slowly, stiffly, and all eyes turned to him. “So we should have an easy drive in. You got an access point for us yet?”
Kenny nodded. “I think so, yeah. There’s a subway station nearby, and there’s a service corridor…”
“Give me the details in the van,” Jack said. “Lock and load, kids.” He glanced at Cash, sitting in a ratty armchair in the corner. “You planning to join us?” His tone made it clear that Cash didn’t really have a choice.
Not that Cash minded—of course he would join them. They were his family, his team, and the best defense Newtropolis had against the Shift. Hell, maybe the only defense. Nobody had believed Jack all those years ago when he’d tried to explain that the Shift was coming, and nobody had understood when he’d pulled his four kids out of their mundane lives and started training them to fight, to survive. Cash had spent the first year of his life as a quiet, happy toddler in suburbia, and the next nineteen being trained as a guerrilla in the war against who-knew-what. There had been times over that stretch when he’d been tempted to desert, to get the hell away from his crazy, survivalist father and start a new, normal life, but he’d stuck it out. And two years ago, when the Shift began, he’d been ready—they’d all been ready, the whole family. Ever since that first mission, down in Brazil, there hadn’t been a shred of doubt in Cash’s mind. He was doing what he was meant to do, and he was damned good at it.
But that didn’t mean he had to take the whole thing too seriously. “I’m actually just getting to the good part,” he told his father, waving his paperback copy of Cujo in the air. “I think the dog might be a bit irritable.”
Jack didn’t take a lot of lip from any of his kids, but Cash was his baby, and got away with a little bit more. “You can read it on the way, and let us all know how that turns out.”
Brad clapped Cash on the shoulder as they headed for the weapons locker. “Don’t get too attached to the dog, Cash.”
“Sure, thanks—way to ruin it for me.” Cash shoved the book into his equipment bag and started his weapons check.
The family was disciplined. There was no way any of them would have put a weapon away in any less than perfect condition, but there was also no way any of them would take any uninspected equipment into the field. Cash slipped his handgun into its shoulder holster and slid the sawed-off into the equipment bag, then strapped his sheathed great sword to his back. When the Shift had first started, the family had done well with guns and other ranged weapons, but things seemed to be changing lately. That was the thing about the Shift, Cash figured—nothing stayed the same for long. And in the last several battles, the enemy had seemed largely immune to damage from bullets. If there were no civilians around, the family could use grenade launchers, but if they needed a precision hit, swords had started to seem like the best option. Cash didn’t know if it was foresight or just luck that had inspired Jack to train his children in such a wide variety of weaponry.
“The pit’s growing,” Kenny commented from the back of the van, where he was already set up at his computer station, waiting for them. “Which actually makes things quite a bit easier—I thought you were going to have to blast through some bedrock, but it looks like you might be able to walk right in from the station.”
“So—good news then,” Cash ventured. “That’s unusual.”
“It swallowed a news van and at least two police cruisers,” Kenny said. “With people inside.”
“I didn’t say it was great news.” Cash strapped his body armor on and shrugged into his heavy, leather jacket. It was springtime, and he didn’t need the warmth, but he liked to have a little extra protection. He lifted his equipment bag carefully into the back of the van and then swung up to take a seat next to Kenny. “Are they still hearing voices from down below?”
“No current reports on that. I’m almost into the subway intercom system, though—another few minutes and we should hear whatever there is to hear in that station.”
“Let us know when you get something,” Jack ordered as he climbed behind the wheel. “And let HQ know what’s going on.” Brad took his usual place riding shotgun, the weapon in his lap making the terminology seem completely appropriate. Kayla slid the van door shut and then settled in next to Cash, and they were off.
They drove in silence for a while, and then Kayla said, “I hated that book. I felt terrible for the poor dog.”
“Two days ago you barbecued a five-headed dog with a lighter and a busted gas line,” Cash observed.
“It wasn’t a real five-headed dog, Cash. If it had been, I would have felt terrible for it too.”
“Lucky there’s no such thing as real five-headed dogs, then, isn’t it?” Cash had an idea that was almost exciting in its horribleness. “You don’t think the Shift is reading our minds, do you? Like, it knew you love animals, so it showed up in that form for you?”
“If it had been a cute puppy, I’d believe that…even a cute, five-headed puppy. But that monster—I don’t think it was going for the sympathy vote, Cash.” Kayla shook her head. “And that alligator thing last week—I don’t think it picked that out of anybody’s brain.”
“Nobody sane.” Cash would have been fine with a regular alligator, even if it had been oversized, but the tentacles had been completely unnecessary. He still had welts along his back and left thigh from where the bastard had slapped him. He would have been happy to take the damn thing’s pelt to make into a huge pair of shoes, but like every other Shift-produced monster, it had melted into putrid green ooze as soon as they’d killed it. Not much potential for trophy-taking.
“The pit’s expanding at an increasing rate,” Kenny commented. “It’s beginning to threaten the structural integrity of three separate buildings.”
“Jesus—are we looking at another Chicago?” Kayla asked.
Jack shook his head. “It took two days to get a team into Chicago—we’re looking at a two-hour delay here. This thing is not going to destroy a damn city.” The not on my watch was unspoken, but Cash knew that everyone in the van heard it anyway.
“So what’s the plan?” Cash asked. “Just, you know—just so there’s something for us to ignore after things go totally ape-shit in there.”
“We sometimes stick to the plan,” Brad protested.
“We always stick to the plan,” Jack said gruffly. “Because the plan is always simple—kill the monster and get out alive. The rest of it’s just details.”
“Okay, so…what’re the details?” Cash said, and the rest of the drive was spent planning their attack.
“I knew we weren’t going to stick to the plan,” Cash growled as he pressed his back against the wall and waited for a chance to take another shot.
“We’re still alive,” Brad responded. “So we’re doing just fine.”
“We aren’t doing too well at the ‘kill the monster’ part, though, are we?” Cash lit the fuse of his explosive-wrapped crossbow bolt and waited a few seconds, his eyes locked on Brad’s. “3…2…1,” he said, and he turned and stepped out into the open as Brad used his AK-47 to lay down covering fire. Cash let the bolt fly and spun back behind the wall just as the belch of fire reached their sheltered spot. It licked around them but didn’t make it through the leather jackets they were both wearing. Cash felt the explosion as much as heard it, but when he peeked around the corner, the monster seemed to have taken no damage.
“A fucking dragon,” he said.
It would have been really cool if the damn thing hadn’t been standing over a pile of human corpses, and if it hadn’t been trying so hard to add Cash and his family to the victim list. And possibly “dragon” wasn’t quite the right description, but Cash was damned if he’d say he was fighting a huge lizard, not when he could say he was slaying a dragon. And the thing was big, at least twenty feet at the shoulder—definitely dragon-sized.
“The explosives did nothing,” Jack’s voice crackled over their headsets.
“Guess we can’t fight fire with fire,” Cash responded. “What’s Plan B? Swords again?”
There was a pause, and Cash wasn’t sorry that he was unable to see his father’s face. Finally Jack said, “Yeah. Swords, damn it. Brad and Kayla, covering fire, and try to draw the damn thing’s attention. Cash, try to get behind it. I’ll move in from the front.”
“Jack, the fire’s in front. You can’t work from that direction.” Cash knew his father would always take the most dangerous job for himself, but there was no need to be stupid about it.
“Well, I’ll be careful. But if it’s shooting fire at me, it won’t be paying much attention to you. You need to get in close and see what you can do.”
Cash really didn’t like the sound of this plan, but he didn’t have a better alternative. Every second that it wasn’t spending fighting them, the dragon was clawing chunks of downtown Newtropolis into its mouth, destroying the city and growing. It wasn’t nearly as big as the terrain it had consumed, and Cash really didn’t know what that meant in terms of the law of conservation of mass, but he’d seen most of the other principles of nature abandoned after the Shift, so he wouldn’t cling too tightly to that one. Regardless of science, the dragon was big enough to be a problem, and it was getting bigger while Cash stood there and tried to come up with an alternate plan. “Okay,” he agreed. “Give me a minute to get over behind him. I’ll let you know when I’m ready.”
Nobody objected, so Cash started working his way through the rubble. “Kenny—I need to get up somehow. So I can drop down on it. Got any suggestions?” Cash directed the camera on his helmet in the appropriate direction, letting Kenny survey the area.
There was a short pause, then, “You should be able to climb up that black projection far enough to grab hold of the cables protruding from the ceiling. You could then climb them and swing out over the subject.”
“What are those cables? Would they hold my weight? And, you know—would they electrocute me, or anything?”
“I don’t have firm documentation on that.” Kenny sounded genuinely intrigued, almost excited by the mystery. “They may be something from a previous system—the Newtropolis subway was opened in 1923, and there have obviously been several upgrades since…”
“Kenny. Will they hold me, and will they kill me?” There was a reason Jack had decided that Kenny would best serve the team in a non-combat role.
A pause, then, “Probably? And probably not.”
That was about as much certainty as Cash had been expecting. “Okay, then. Guys, that’s the plan. I’m gonna be Tarzan. Sound okay?” But Cash didn’t bother waiting for a reply. It had been Kenny’s suggestion, and Cash was in the best position to see the area he was talking about. His family wouldn’t question his judgment. He was just telling them the plan so that they would know what area to not shoot into. And so they’d be able to more effectively analyze the reasons for his failure and gruesome death if things didn’t go smoothly. Probably best not to think about that too much, though.
The team was doing a great job of distracting the dragon, although they didn’t seem to be doing any damage at all. They were maybe amusing it, as Kayla pulled out one gadget after another, testing to see whether any of them were effective on this creature. There was the sonic gun that had worked pretty well on the zombie-things in Iowa, but it had no effect here. And the mega-taser—it hadn’t worked on anything yet, but it was such an excellent idea that none of them seemed willing to give up on it entirely.
Cash followed Kenny’s plan, and found himself in position just as Kayla was setting up the liquid nitrogen grenades. From his new angle, he saw a crevasse in the far wall that he hadn’t noticed earlier, about four feet wide, stretching from the bottom of the cavern all the way up to the bright circle of sky at the top. There was a body wedged inside the fissure, and there was something about the way it was positioned…
“I think we have at least one survivor,” Cash said into his headset. “North wall, about a third of the way along from the west.”
“Affirmative,” Jack said. “Kayla, make sure you don’t shoot too much death in that direction, if you can help it. Brad, work your way over there if you can.”
A few moments later, there was a loud pop, followed by another, as Kayla fired two liquid-nitrogen grenades straight at the monster. They exploded on impact, as they’d been designed to do, and for a moment Cash thought they were working. The dragon seemed to slow down and its movements got a little clumsy. The effect only lasted for a couple of seconds though, before the dragon sent an angry ball of fire toward Kayla’s hiding place and carried on with its mission of destruction, apparently unfazed.
“Damn. Got about eighty more of those?” Cash asked.
“I’ve got two more. Not gonna do a lot.”
“Get them ready, and fire them on my signal. At least they’ll give me a few seconds of working time.” Cash wasn’t exactly clear about what he was going to do in those few seconds, but he guessed he’d better think of something.
He climbed out of his makeshift hiding spot and fought his way several feet up the concrete wall, keeping a tight grip on the cables. He really wondered what the hell he thought he was doing. Up had seemed like a good idea when he’d first suggested it, but now it just seemed like he’d given himself farther to fall. He hesitated, but then the dragon swung its mighty head toward the hole in the wall, apparently noticing the same human shape Cash had, and he knew it was time to go. “Okay, Kayla, now!”
Cash was in the air as the liquid nitrogen exploded, and landed right where he’d hoped, behind the creature’s head. He didn’t see any opportunity for finesse, and he didn’t see any point in trying to stab the thing. Whatever it was that made these creatures impervious to bullets also generally made them immune to all puncture-type wounds.
So he was going to have to do this the hard way. With the dragon still at least partly frozen, he found the best footing he could, leaned back, and hacked deep into the creature’s neck with his sword. Then again, and again, no technique, none of the skill he’d spent so many hours and years perfecting, just balance and brute force. As usual, there was no blood as huge chunks of green flesh were hacked free, turning into vomitous globs of ooze as soon as they were detached. Cash had nightmares in which each of these balls of slime turned into smaller, faster, more vicious versions of the original monster, but that hadn’t happened yet, and it wasn’t happening this time, either.
By the time the dragon was unfrozen, Cash was about a quarter of the way through the creature’s neck. Not far enough, damn it. The creature bucked and spun, and Cash was too busy just hanging on to do any more hacking. He was far enough up on the neck that the dragon wouldn’t be able to reach him with its mouth…he hoped. But sooner or later he was going to shake loose, and then he’d be in trouble.
The dragon roared and its wild swinging shifted into a quick forward pounce. Cash was already raising the sword for another chop as he looked down and saw the rest of the team darting around near the monster’s front claws, dodging, faking, focused on distraction but obviously doing some damage too, because a good chunk of one of the dragon’s feet was missing, a puddle of ooze lying on the floor not far from Jack.
Cash brought his sword down again and again, grabbed hold when he needed to and let go again as soon as possible. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was the most effective technique the team had found thus far. The only problem was…
The aftermath. The dragon’s roar was its loudest yet, but before it was even half over, the sound was dissolving, liquefying, as Cash’s efforts finally paid off and the creature’s neck folded and melted. The rest of the body followed suit, and within seconds the entire mass of the dragon became a huge ball of amorphous jelly. Cash tried to jump free, but there was nothing to brace against, his feet sinking into the ooze, then his knees and his thighs. He tried to swim, but the substance was too thick for that. He tried to level his body out as if he were on quicksand, and that worked a little, but not enough. He took a huge, gasping breath just before his face submerged and everything turned into a cold, viscous nightmare.
