Project Nemesis (A Kaiju Thriller) (32 page)

46

Despite me being on the roof of a thirty-three story building, Nemesis, or rather,
Maigo
,
looks down at me. It’s not by much, maybe ten feet, but she is still massive and horrifying. Her dark face is etched with fresh wounds, through which I can see glimmers of white. Tall spikes jut off the sides of her carapace, which extends down from the back of her skull to the start of her tail. Her jaws hang open, revealing giant, but needle-sharp teeth—a promise of things to come. I can hear her breath rumbling as deeply as the still-falling buildings around the city, as her chest heaves in and out.

She’s tired, I think.
Or stressed.

Maybe neither, some other part of my brain argues. I can’t assume anything about this creature.

Her forehead scrunches as she looks down at me and her eyes squint the way a teenage girl’s might if you had upset her. She knows me. I can feel it. The angry growl that rises in her throat and shakes the building confirms it. But she hasn’t killed me.

Maybe it’s because I used her real name.

Or she’s somehow judging me right now.

I don’t know what it is that keeps her from smearing me across the roof, but I’m thankful for it.

“
Maigo
,” I say, more gently.

She flinches back at the sound of the name,
then
lets out a huff that smells vile and nearly knocks me off my feet. When I steady myself, I find her eyes focused on me, intense and angry. She flexes her body, and I see and hear bits of her flesh tear.

She’s molting again, I realize.
But into what?

I decide it doesn’t matter and get on with it.

I step to the side.

Maigo’s
eyes track me for half the step, then flick back, noticing the man cowering behind me.

Her reaction this time is more telling than anything so far. She reels back, sucking in a breath that is something close to a gasp.

I take a step back.

She ignores me, so I take five more.
And then ten.

Her forehead furrows so deeply that the flesh above her eyes cracks. When she sneers, revealing her teeth, the same thing happens. Then she lets out that gasped-in air as a roar, leveling it straight at
Tilly
. If he screams, I can’t hear it, but I can tell by the way his body shakes that he’s sobbing.

Maybe apologizing, but probably begging for mercy, which I know he will not find from this creature. Part of her might be
Maigo
Tilly
, but there is little doubt that just as much of her is Nemesis.

To my surprise,
Maigo
takes a step back, but I don’t think she’s going anywhere. She hunches forward, flexing her back, and I hear something pop. It sounds like Endo’s shoulder, but much louder. Then she leans up and back. Massive slabs of her thick, black hide fall away to reveal a smoother, white skin beneath. She sheds the older flesh quickly, scraping at her body with her massive claws, peeling like a giant rotten banana until all of the black has been removed.

I stumble back, squinting at the now gleaming white monster, which is still horrible, but in many ways, beautiful. With a hand over my eyes, I stop walking backwards and just marvel at the thing.

Another loud pop sounds and the carapace on the monster’s back shifts.

Then it splits.

I’m frozen in place as
Maigo’s
transformation continues. The carapace lifts away from the back and opens, each side lifting up, its tall spines pointed skyward. And then, from within each side of the carapace, wings unfurl. I only catch a glimpse of their brilliant surface. As soon as the sun hits them, I have to turn away.

I look down toward the roof. Little rainbows dance around me. The wings aren’t just reflecting light, they’re bending it. The rainbows swirl around me, but they slowly move away, converging toward Alexander
Tilly
. I look at the man. He’s on his feet now, facing the giant monster. There’s nowhere to run and he knows it.

When the rainbows have all moved away, I turn my head up and find I’m able to look at the wings. But they’re not wings. Not really. It’s clear that they’re not meant for flight. They’re far too delicate looking to lift
Maigo’s
bulk off the ground, and this isn’t a Japanese monster movie where having wings means you can just float through the air while emitting a high pitched whistle.

Some of the details resolve and I see hundreds of thousands—maybe millions—of diamond-shaped feathers. But they’re not really feathers. They look solid, like scales, but not. One thing is for certain, the feathers—for lack of a better word—are shifting, each of them moving a bit of sunlight.

“
Maigo
!”
Tilly
shouts.

I see a reflection of the sun shift across the wings.

“
Maigo
!” he shouts again. “
Ple
—”

The giant shifts, just slightly, but the subtle motion causes the sun to reflect off each and every feather, focusing the sun across what is essentially a six hundred foot mirror and directing it straight down at Alexander
Tilly
, the man who murdered his wife and daughter just two weeks ago.

Tilly
bursts into flame and is swept away as a cloud of white dust a moment later.

The building shakes.

The roof catches on fire.

I rush the rest of the way to the far side and look down. The beam of light has pierced all the way through the building and is burrowing a hole in the ground. It hits what must be a gas line, because the street lifts and explodes. The underground eruption follows the street, bursting manholes around the city and billowing balls of fire into the sky.

A roar turns my head to the sky.

A fresh squadron of jets is en route, an F-22 leading the way.

Missiles fire, striking
Maigo’s
massive shoulder, sending flesh and blood—actual blood—arcing through the air.

She can be hurt in this form, I realize, though part of me no longer wants her to be. Tragedy created her. It doesn’t seem right to kill her again.

My moral debate is cut short when
Maigo
roars in pain and twists.

The beam of focused light cuts through the Clarendon building like a laser beam, cleaving it cleanly at an angle.
The building shifts.

I sprint for the edge.

As I reach the side of the roof, I see the beam of light slide to the right, cutting through the bases of several buildings that are shorter than the Clarendon, and then through the John Hancock Tower.
The building drops, jolts to a stop and then pitches to the side, falling like a 790-foot-tall tree.

I’m a dead man, I think, but I’m committed to at least trying to survive. I leap from the roof of the Clarendon just as it folds in on itself and collapses. As my fall begins, I see a flash of red to my left, but can’t look to see what it is. I reach up and slap my chest. A burst of air pressure expands the
wingsuit
into position, and I’m gliding once again, though this time I think I would prefer a jet pack.

I can’t look up, but I can see the base of the John Hancock Tower crumbling, as the rest of the tower falls above me. I shoot past the front of the tower, just one hundred fifty feet from the ground, moving at 50 mph.

Suddenly, a desk falls past me.

Then a chair.

Reams of paper flutter in front of me, and I crash through them.

A thunderous roar sounds out behind me, but I can’t tell if
its
Maigo
, or the lowest part of the falling tower striking the ground. Then, I’m out of the tower’s shadow and in the glow of the sun.

But I’m also still falling from the sky. I look for someplace soft to land. If I lean back, I can slow my decent to 40 mph, maybe a little less, and that might be survivable if I don’t smack into the side of a building.
Or a car.
Or just about anything else. All I see ahead is a very solid looking, spiky church, a line of parked cars, running people and a few small trees that I think might hurt more than the pavement.

Then the red blur returns and this time I look.

It’s Woodstock!

The red chopper descends alongside me, matching my angle and pace.

The side door slides open and Collins waves me over.

I tilt my body in their direction, but as soon as I get close, I can feel the rotor wash pushing me down.

I glance forward.

I have seconds before I hit the ground like a very soft meteorite.

I widen my wings and lean back for just a moment, bringing me right next to the chopping blades. If a breeze hits the side of the chopper right now, or me, I’ll be hacked to bits. Before that can happen, I lean forward, bringing me just below rotor level. I tilt hard to the left. I fly under the blades and am quickly flung down, but I’m ready for it and reach out. When I slam into the chopper’s right skid, I clasp onto it like a giant sloth. When I feel my legs slipping off, I reach over the skid, and slap the button on my chest twice. The pressure fades and the wings retract.

As we level out, Collins reaches down and helps me up into the chopper. Once inside, I collapse into her arms, exhausted and out of breath. As she holds me tight in a way that says, “I’m not letting you go,” I feel safe, but I’m not yet sure we are.

I slip on a headset. “Take us up. I want to see.”

We rise up to five hundred feet, which is far higher than any building remaining in Boston, and I catch sight of
Maigo
.

Her new, white body is less bulky than her previous form, but also less protected. The first
thing
I notice are several splotches of red blood. The second thing is that this new form is also much more agile. As missiles rain down from the sky, she runs through the ruins of the city like a giant cat. Her thrashing tail takes out any buildings still standing as she follows her path of destruction back toward the South End and the ocean beyond.

I hear her roar in pain as a missile strikes one of the wings, which is folded against her back. A cloud of sparkling white erupts from the blow, fluttering back down to Earth. Then she’s in the ruins of the South End, sheltered somewhat by the buildings still standing on either side.

Missiles give chase, striking her back and the surrounding buildings. I don’t think anyone is worried about collateral damage any more.

When she reaches the water with a massive splash, I find myself mentally urging her on. I know I shouldn’t. She’s killed a lot of people. But somewhere in there is an innocent girl who was merged with an ancient goddess, or alien, and given the chance to exact vengeance, or justice as the case may be. With
Tilly
dead, we might not ever see her again.

Maigo
lopes through the ocean, leaping up and forward, paying no attention to the jets now chasing her. Then, with one last leap, she dips her head forward and slides beneath the water of Boston Harbor. Her glowing white form looks turquoise in the shallows, then dark blue,
then
nearly a mile out to sea, she slides into the dark depths of the ocean and disappears.

I look down at the smoldering ruin of a city.

Boston has been destroyed.