"Where the hell are we going!"
"Just follow me."
-- Dayton, Base camp -- 2015 --
The tunnel was crumbling into itself. Screams echoed in the distance as they bolted down the dark walkways, unable to make out a clear picture of what lay ahead of them under the dim red of the emergency lights. Static buzzed in the distance.
"North...... Arbor Square......... East........"
Blake shoved the service door open, gathering everyone into the room quickly. A thunderous clap ripped through the hallway as he slammed the door shut.
"What is this place?" asked Anne, looking all around her.
It was probably some sort of maintenance room back in the day, but right now, it was the most important centre of operations, a room where all the tide changing decisions were made. The Hearth.
In the hearth I shall place the fire in your hearts, and from the flames we will earn our rightful place, a fortress right at the heart of their stronghold! DEATH TO ALL DEMONS! Reyna's mind reeled, remembering Sarah's speech the day she came to Dayton camp. While they'd been busy surviving, Sarah had been planning all along to take the fight right back to them. And she believed Blake was the key. Whatever was going on between those two, it wasn't something that could be settled in a few sweet words. That much she knew.
"This recording. It's ninety-nine point one isn't it? The disaster management channel?" Samantha huffed as she creased her eyebrows.
"There's something wrong though. Most of its missing," Reyna added, walking over to the machine. "Don't you have one of these at your place Blake?"
"It just keeps on yappin' about the same fucking thing," Blake snapped, averting his gaze from hers as he turned down the volume.
"There used to be something more though," Reyna muttered trying to remember the rest of the message. Unlike the Daytons who stayed tuned to this frequency for the last seventeen years, the Harringtons had heard the message once or twice in their entire lifetime, given the fact that they never came across any functional equipment in most surface runs. But there were limits to how much one could forget, given the importance of this message. There has to be more. I know it.
"Do I look like I give a fuck?" Blake snapped, silencing the entire room. "Just wait for those animals to pass and we'll be on our way."
What's with the attitude shithead? thought Reyna. It was useless to pry more into the matter. Eager for a change of pace, her eyes ran over the complex machinery buzzing around her.
Radio, telegraph, morse, they had everything here. No wonder they were planning to strike back. However, when did they get all this equipment, and from where even? There were too many questions huddled in one place, and she decided to leave them unanswered. She did trust them after all.
No one? Blake thought as his eyes scanned through the room restlessly.
"Does anyone copy?" the walkie-talkie sputtered from a corner of the room. Blake scanned the room once again. All the portable equipment was missing, all but this one receiver. It's been wiped clean.
"Regroup at Carlisle. I repeat, regroup at Carlisle. Protect the subject at all costs! Bring subject to Carlisle ASAP!" The machine screeched sharply, sending ripples of static through the room.
She sounds desperate, thought Reyna, her back against the cold metal door. 'No. More like.... fixated.
Blake picked up the receiver, holding down the button at its side.
YOU ARE READING
Where Light Dies
Fantasy--Completed-- Book 1/3 - A Phantom's Light The world has ended. It has been nearly two decades since humanity fell. The skies have turned a vile crimson, and the earth now lies smeared in the blood of billions. In a realm overrun by demons...
