Chapter 106 The Chemical Plant
I emerged from the subway tunnel into Sector 2 like a man surfacing from deep water.
The Industrial District was silent. The area had no sirens or screams or fires but showed only factory shadows and smokestack silhouettes which extended into the dark sky. The air was thick with a rust and sulfur taste which hid underneath industrial stench the sickly-sweet scent of the Rot.
The Aethelgard Chemical Processing Plant stood on a hill overlooking the rail yards. The building functioned as a fortress through its design which combined concrete and steel piping with a high chain-link fence that had razor wire at its top.
Or it had been.
The structure now resembled an organ which had been taken from a gigantic creature that suffered from a disease.
The Rot had taken total control of the area. The building had black veins which extended throughout its exterior walls that pulsed with a rhythm matching the heartbeat I sensed through my boots. The smokestacks released thick black clouds which contained spores that descended upon the district like ash instead of steam.
I whispered into the comms system that I had reached the target, while I tapped the transmit button three times to send the code for silence/danger. I continued talking to Kael despite my doubt that he could hear me because protocol served as my only remaining mental support.
I chose not to use the main gate because The Rot had fused the metal shut, creating a wall of hardened sludge.
I discovered a storm drain located close to the boundary. The grate was blocked by black slime but I succeeded in opening it with my iron spike. I entered the plant through the opening which dropped me into its dark underground space.
The interior space contained both catwalks and pressure vessels as its main components. The emergency lights were inoperable yet Rot created its own light through a weak violet bio-luminescence which pulsed from its black veins. The darkness created long shadows that twisted toward me as I moved.
I held my Star-Metal sword drawn while I walked carefully over the metal grating.
This site served as both an infection zone and a Nest.
I spotted them when I walked past the main fermentation hall.
The ceiling suspended hundreds of cocoons which hung like bats. The materials used for their construction included spun black glass and hardened mucus. Inside the cocoons, dark figures writhed and moved in the space.
I paused while I held my breath.
The mud monsters from the cornfield did not resemble these creatures. The previous monsters had fought as simple and unthinking soldiers. The new monsters differed from their predecessors. They were smaller yet more aerodynamic.
I moved closer to the cocoon that hung low over the catwalk. The surface was see-through.
Inside, I saw a face.
The worker had his face removed because his skin had been taken away and replaced with black chitin. His hands had been transformed into scythe-like claws because his fingers were too long. His eyes had been removed and replaced by heat-sensing pits.
I whispered, "Drones."
The Rot needed to kill us but it instead chose to create an army of soldiers who possess special abilities.
I took steps backward. The situation demanded stealth because waking them up would result in my death. One man with a sword against a hive? The math didn't work.
I required access to the chemicals.
I moved through the quiet plant while I followed the HAZMAT STORAGE yellow lines which had faded on the floor.
The chemical odor increased in strength with my deeper exploration of the area. The Rot scent was overpowered by the chemical odors that included sharp ammonia and choking chlorine tang.
I arrived at the storage bay.
The plant contained a vast warehouse which held industrial tanks. It was the only space inside the plant which maintained cleanliness.
The Rot had stopped at the doorway. The black veins crept along the floor but recoiled as they touched the threshold. The area contained such a high level of chemical fumes that the Rot biological material experienced burning.
I realized, with a grim smile touching my lips beneath the mask, that the creature feared bleach. "Good."
I walked through the tank rows. I found what I needed: SODIUM HYPOCHLORITE - INDUSTRIAL GRADE.
The tanks contained thousands of gallons but I was unable to move them.
The transport drums stood next to the primary tanks. Fifty-gallon steel barrels, yellow and black, waiting for shipment.
I lifted one. It was heavy—over four hundred pounds.
I attempted to tilt it. The liquid moved violently inside the container.
I hissed, "Think, Ryker." You can't carry this four miles back to the Spire."
The loading dock rails drew my attention after I looked around the bay.
The warehouse operated through a spur line train dock which extended directly into its interior space. The tracks held a maintenance handcar which had been covered with a tarp.
The system operated without needing electricity or batteries since it required physical strength to function.
I muttered, "Perfect."
I rolled two drums of bleach onto the handcar. Then I found two drums of ammonia and loaded them as well. The payload weight of four drums reached sixteen hundred pounds.
The handcar groaned under the weight.
The brake system functioned despite its rusted state.
I pulled the handle down after I grabbed it.
SQUEAAAK.
The sound reached an unbearable volume which spread throughout the warehouse like a human scream.
I became completely still.
I faced the Nest's doorway.
For a second, nothing happened.
A sound emerged from the dark space.
Click. Click. Hiss.
The opening cocoons began to activate.
I pumped the handle without delay.
SQUEAK-CLANK. SQUEAK-CLANK.
The handcar began to move forward. The load was heavy and moved at a slow pace. I pulled down with all my strength to operate the lever. The wheels began to move forward because they fought against the rusted tracks.
I left the clean room to enter the main plant.
The violet light of the Rot flared brighter.
The ceiling developed movement above me.
The cocoons broke apart. Drones fell to the catwalks. They came down to the ground on all fours while making hissing sounds. The creatures without eyes twisted their heads toward the sound made by the squeaking wheels.
I told myself, "Run."
I pumped harder. The handcar picked up speed. We hit the decline leading out of the loading bay.
SQUEAK-CLANK-SQUEAK-CLANK.
A drone leaped from the catwalk. It landed on the tracks ten feet behind me. It screeched, scrambling after the cart on its bladed limbs.
It was fast. Faster than the cart.
I let go of the handle, letting the momentum carry us. I drew my sword.
The drone leaped.
I swung.
SHINK.
The Star-Metal blade sheared through its chitinous armor. The drone split in half, spraying black acid across the tracks.
But two more dropped behind it. Then five.
"Too many," I growled.
I looked at the drums on the cart.
I grabbed a crowbar from the tool rack on the trolley. I jammed it into the lid of one of the bleach drums. I punched a hole in the side.
Clear liquid sprayed out, splashing onto the tracks behind me.
The drones rushing after me hit the puddle.
HISSSSSS.
The reaction was violent. The bleach burned their legs instantly, melting the Void-chitin like sugar in hot water. The drones shrieked, thrashing as they dissolved.
The chemical fumes rose up—a white cloud of chlorine gas.
The drones behind them ran into the cloud. They choked, clawing at their own throats as the gas liquified their lungs.
"Chemistry," I panted, grabbing the pump handle again. "The universal equalizer."
I pumped furiously. The cart hit the main line. The tracks curved, leading back toward the tunnel.
I looked back.
The warehouse was a chaotic scene of dissolving monsters and white gas. But something else was moving in the vat room.
A massive shape detached itself from the ceiling. It was huge—the size of a tank. It didn't scuttle; it flowed.
It was a Broodmother. A massive, bloated sac of corruption with a dozen legs.
It let out a roar that shook the dust from the rafters.
It started to chase me.
But the handcar had hit the slope of the tunnel entrance. Gravity took over. We accelerated, plunging into the darkness of the subway tunnel.
The Broodmother stopped at the tunnel mouth. It was too big to fit. It screamed in frustration, a sound that vibrated in my chest.
I didn't stop pumping until I was a mile down the track.
My arms burned. My lungs felt like they were filled with broken glass. But the cart was rolling, carrying enough chemical death to save the Spire.
I checked the drums. They were leaking slightly, the smell sharp and cleansing.
"Elara," I rasped into the dead radio, hoping the signal would pick up soon. "Get the scrubbers ready. I’m bringing the bleach."
I was alone in the dark, pushing a ton of poison through a haunted tunnel.
But for the first time since the blackout, I smiled.
I had a weapon. And I was coming home.