Chapter 2: Parasite

 

Shroom zombie was the rather disconsolate name given to the physical transformation the undead underwent as their bodies deteriorated. The parasite, which developed inside the zombie’s cranial cavity, eventually grew too large to remain within the protective intracranial space. The back of the skull was slowly cracked open and expanded outward like a shield, resulting in the most unsettling visage of furled flesh, resembling a withered mushroom cap, which disfigured all but the zombie's gaping mouth and blank stare.

Mercedes lined up her first target, choosing one of the three male shroom zombies who appeared determined to test their aquatic skills against the lake's treacherous depths.

The longer a parasite underwent development inside its host’s skull, the more intelligence and mobility it demonstrated. The Sparrow had seen more than one shuttling away from a damaged or inoperable zombie corpse to scavenge for a new body. For this reason, the Fortress’s Hawk rifle instructor had drilled into the young soldiers the importance of a headshot.

When a mobile shroom parasite couldn’t find a fresh corpse, it would go looking for a living host instead, human or animal.

“So, what did our Ray of Sunshine want?” Christine asked, dragging her chair over after securing a pair of Luminara Noctis Binoculars from the tower’s storage chest. “Must have been important to drag him from his priestly slumbers just to meet you out here in this miserable weather.”

“You know he’s not actually a priest,” Mercedes muttered, drawing away from the back sight to gauge the wind along the water reeds that circled the lake.

“Well, he’s as close as we’re ever going to get to one,” Christine retorted with a snort. “Anyway, what gives? It’s not like you to be sociable with anyone, much less a Raven.”

The Sparrow rolled her eyes and adjusted her position between the crenels of the watchtower, tucking the rifle against her right cheek and shoulder as she lined up the rear and front sight. After a few weeks of nightly practice, shooting shroom zombies from a safe distance, Mercedes had grown familiar enough with the Radiant Dawn Rifle that she barely missed. The castle lake offered the perfect deterrent from which to pick off the witless, bumbling corpses. But the presence of several developed shroom zombies worried her.

Still, since their orders were to shoot any zombie attempting to breach the moat, that meant she was free to take out the trio knee-deep in the lake, struggling as their limbs became entangled in the reeds and mud.

A soft exhale, trigger squeeze, and the metallic click of the firing mechanism activating echoed in the Sparrow's ear as her first bullet popped free. A growing, glimmering spiral of radiant light trailed behind it before the round snapped through the first undead soldier’s enlarged skull, imploding the furled shroom zombie’s head on impact.

‘Thankfully, no parasite can survive that much damage.’

“Nice,” Christine muttered, binoculars lifted to follow the shot.

Mercedes slid the bolt back without comment, the spent casing shooting clear to make space for the next bullet and her next kill. As predicted, the noise and spiraling lights drew the shroom zombies into a small cluster at the edge of the lake, where they piled onto each other as if attempting to build a bridge across the moat. Thankfully, they had nowhere near the numbers to achieve their goal, and once she took out the more intelligent shroom zombies, the rest would likely retreat or sink to the bottom of the lake.

An indescribable feeling filled Mercedes’s stomach each time her target’s headless corpse crumpled down into the damp net of reeds. For some unexplainable reason, she never felt more alive than she did when killing the parasitic-riddled zombies, as if their death boosted her vitality in some way.

‘No wonder people think I’m weird.’

Christine waited for a lull in gunfire, lowering the binoculars as her silent partner refilled the clip with ten more rounds. “You know I’m going to keep pestering you until you tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

“What is your deal with Raven Ray?”

Mercedes rolled her eyes, contemplating her options between telling the inquisitive brunette to mind her business and giving her partner just enough to sate her appetite. “He’s just trying to help me.”

“Yeah, but with what? They’ll never promote you.”

“I’m not after a promotion—”

“Then what is it?!”

The Sparrow clenched her jaw, choosing her words carefully as she reattached her magazine clip. “I just—want out of this damn, crumbling coffin.”

“A new position?” Christine nodded, her eyes shifting in a manner that suggested she had found some hidden angle or meaning behind her partner’s curt response. “Why didn’t I think of that? I’m sure there are better postings for Sparrows closer to the capital, maybe even inside the Queen’s palace!”

‘There’s a nice fantasy.’

Mercedes fell silent as she resumed her position and eyed the growing herd of groaning undead awaiting her attention below.

“Still,” the brunette tilted her head, no longer interested in her partner’s nightly sport. “I heard a rumor that Raven Ray will be leaving us soon. I hate to say it, but he’s probably just blowing sunshine up your skirt.”

“Sparrows don’t wear skirts.”

“You know what I mean,” Christine snapped, kicking the younger Sparrow in the hip with the heel of her boot and throwing her partner’s aim out of focus. “You’re not as dense as you pretend to be. And we both know there’s no way you snagged a Raven’s attention with your looks. You’re practically skin and bone.”

Mercedes clenched her teeth and resisted the urge to snap back as she eyed her missed target. She realigned her sight toward the nearest cluster of shroom zombie heads and squeezed. A faint smile tugged at the corner of the Sparrow’s mouth as she took out three for the price of one.

“Come on, spill it!” Christine persisted, her heel returning to rest on her partner’s backside, prattling off a list of obscene activities that flabbergasted and otherwise amazed the younger Sparrow.

‘And I’m the weird one?’

“Like I said, it’s not what you’re thinking! Now, please stop distracting me,” Mercedes growled, forcing her companion into relative silence as she emptied her clip into the growing pile of shroom zombies.

“Fine, keep your secrets,” the brunette grumbled, removing her foot and draping it over her right leg as she resumed her snack and observation. “I’ll work it out eventually.”

‘Not with your mind in the gutter.’ The Sparrow’s lips twisted into a cynical smile. ‘Ravens aren’t allowed to touch the opposite sex or anything unclean while they’re preparing to join the High Priestess’s Acolytes.’ Mercedes picked out a familiar uniform among the undead and quickly put the fallen, infected soldier to rest. ‘Not one of ours. Strange. The nearest interim camp is at least a day’s ride by truck from here.’

By the time Mercedes had emptied her seventh clip, the mound of headless zombies had grown into a small hill along the shore of the lake, which didn’t deter the stragglers late to the party.

‘Day patrol won’t be happy. That’s a lot of bodies to drag out and burn,’ she mused without remorse, glancing over at her surprisingly quiet partner, who had finally given her jaw a break from talking and eating. The Sparrow frowned as she watched Christine grab a fist full of bullets from Ray’s ammunition bag, smiling as she transferred them to her pocket.

“What? The Raven did say to share.”

Mercedes said nothing as she glanced toward the crumbs left beside the empty, crumpled paper bag. She leaned back with a sigh as Christine settled into the crenel beside her and took aim at the late arrivals.

The Sparrow seethed in silence as her partner missed the first three shots before puncturing one of the clustered shroom zombies through the stomach, severing its spine and splitting the undead minion into two pieces. The shroom parasite let out a fowl hiss before it detached from the torso of the useless corpse and skittered over the pile of headless zombies. “Are you lining up your sights?”

“Leave me be. I’m just warming up,” Christine retorted, squeezing the trigger with a little too much wild enthusiasm as she rapidly emptied the clip while only managing to take down three zombies.

“You missed seven,” Mercedes observed in a flat tone. “And now there’s a shroom parasite wandering around the lake.”

“They can’t cross the moat,” Christine returned in a sing-song pitch that grated her partner’s nerves. “And you missed seven, not me.” The brunette offered her stunned partner a wink as she struggled to refill her clip. “Let’s say I kill at least three per clip. I’ve got around thirty bullets now, thanks to you, so as far as anyone needs to know, I shot nine out of ten. Right, partner?”

The younger Sparrow offered the brunette an empty smile as she grabbed the bag of ammunition and secured it firmly inside her crenel. She ignored Christine’s taunting sniggers as she attempted to track down the mobile parasite, spotting the foul creature just as it selected a fresh corpse from her pile of kills and popped it like a grape. Mercedes took her time lining up the rest of her shots carefully to make up for the unexpected deficit.

‘This is exactly why I’d prefer to be alone.’

By mid-day, Eldermoor was practically buzzing with anticipation for the afternoon banquet and the arrival of its guest of honor. Mercedes took advantage of the chaos to slip past the Hawk on duty at the entrance of the Raven’s barracks wing. Once through the entryway, she raced silently toward Ray’s single bedroom and knocked on the door, which opened as the Raven hurriedly waved her inside.

“The bath is still warm,” Ray commented, sounding faintly distracted as he shut and locked the door before gesturing toward the prepared tub by one of the few castle windows not boarded shut. “I prepared a comb, your new uniform, boots, and ahh—I brought up a tin of sardines from the kitchens since you’ll be missing lunch—”

A knock at the door stilled the words on his lips. Ray blinked rapidly and then pointed toward a corner closet. Mercedes quietly complied, leaving the door slightly cracked to listen as the Raven answered his door. A hushed conversation took place before Ray returned to grab his trench coat from a corner chair just outside the sheer curtains draped around the steaming tub.

“The High Priestess will be here within the hour. Falcon Cavendish has requested my presence to help finish preparations. Try to get downstairs within that time—unnoticed.”

“Understood,” Mercedes replied, already undoing the buttons of her jacket.

“Wait,” Ray pressed his lips together, his gaze fastened to the Sparrow’s fingers before he cleared his throat and continued. “Remember to lock the door when you leave.” He placed his key on top of the brand-new folded uniform and then hastily sped towards the door, which closed rather loudly behind him.

Mercedes glanced down at her reflection in the tub and smirked. ‘I guess he won’t be watching me this time.’ She promptly picked up the key and quietly locked the door before resuming her bath. The soapy, warm water quickly soothed the Sparrow’s tense muscles as it lapped over her pasty white skin. After coating a bristle brush with soap, she attacked the grime and dirt with vigor, coating the old scars along her wrists and forearms beneath a foamy lather.

Mercedes’s short, ghostly white hair was still damp as she rushed down the castle steps to enter the main foyer where nearly every soldier within Eldermoor Keep had gathered to receive the High Priestess and her Acolytes. She missed the weight of her rifle as she scanned the gathered Sparrows, Hawks, and Ravens, quickly spotting Raven Ray, who stood beside the Keep’s Commander, Falcon Cavendish, who rarely involved himself in the day-to-day tasks of the castle.

Even after the Dylan incident, Falcon Cavendish had never so much as shown his face to the unit, not even during the funeral.

‘Why is it that the closer we get to disappearing beneath the ground, the less those in power bother to notice?’

“Into formation, Sparrow M731,” Hawk Charles called out sharply over the crowd of bustling Sparrows, drawing unnecessary attention to Mercedes, who silently moved into the back lines of her unit’s formation.

“Where on earth did you get that?” Christine protested as she and several other Sparrows stared enviously at Mercedes’s new uniform. “Did you steal it?”

“Quiet,” Charles interrupted sharply. “If I hear so much as a single cough, you'll all be running thirty laps around the training square before lights out.”

Two Ravens appeared through the parted main entrance door and signaled to Falcon Cavendish, who ordered the room into silence.

The dull, mechanical rumblings and overlapping creaks of dusty vehicle chassis grew louder as the supply caravan of trucks pulled into the training ground outside. A cloud of dust seeped through the parted door where the two Ravens waited, filling the chasm of breathless anticipation with a storm of air that hissed free, followed by the rhythmic clang of parking brakes.

A peculiar silence followed before it was filled with the sound of boots moving in unified purpose as the steady sputter and coughs of the supply trucks cut away to the sound of the envoy’s approach.

Mercedes drew in a slow, steadying breath as the Ravens grasped the double doors and swiftly drew them open to reveal the face of her target.

The High Priestess gave the room of awe-struck Sparrows, Hawks, and Ravens a passing glance as she removed a simple gray cloak to reveal the most decorated piece of garment the Sparrow had ever seen. The stunning blonde woman’s gown shimmered with luxurious material alternating from a soft sky blue to pure white silk heavily embroidered with golden thread and embellished with sapphires and diamonds.

‘She looks more like a Queen than any priest or nun I’ve ever seen.’

The gathered soldiers watched with fascination as the powerful envoy of Elysian’s Savior and Protector swept across the prepared red carpet, which led her to the waiting Falcon Commander, who forced a smile of welcome.

“High Priestess Primula! We are honored by your visit,” Cavendish greeted with a stiff, unnatural bow as the Ravens around him bent their heads reverently to the de facto leader of Elysian’s Radiant Church.

“Thank you for the warm welcome, Falcon Commander Cavendish,” Primula responded from behind the thin handkerchief she held over her mouth and nose. The High Priestess's pale blue eyes only warmed as they settled on Raven Ray’s bowed head. “It is good to see you again, Raymond. I trust you have finished all necessary preparations for your journey.”

“Yes, your Eminence,” Ray responded somberly, lifting his head to offer a smile that was both nervous and filled with adoration. “We have prepared a suitable room for you in the temple so you might refresh and rest quietly before the evening festivities.”

“Yes, rest and quiet are what I need most after that arduous journey,” Primula replied with a faint expression of relief as she motioned to the masked Acolytes who stood behind her. “See that my luggage is conveyed to the rooms prepared.”

The six Acolytes in blue masks bowed silently as their leader, distinguished by a white mask overlaid in gold, responded, “Yes, Master.” Two of them split off and headed back through the doors to the mostly silent courtyard.

Even from a distance, Mercedes sensed these men were dangerous, though not a single one of them appeared to carry so much as a firearm. But whatever feeling of unease they gave her, it was nothing compared to the aura of overwhelming power that radiated from the High Priestess herself as she accepted Raven Ray’s offered arm and proceeded toward the hallway, which would lead them to the temple.

Falcon Cavendish, all but regulated to the background with the rest of the Ravens, Hawks, and Sparrows, stared after his guests with an expression of resignation before he snapped his fingers, signaling their dismissal.

The Sparrows were quickly put to work, lugging bags of precious grains, crates of preserved red meat and poultry, canned vegetables and fish, and an overwhelming supply of potatoes and other hearty vegetables. The only supplies they weren’t allowed to touch were the crates of alcohol, which were reserved for the Ravens and Falcon Commander except on special occasions.

The Sparrows moved enthusiastically, eager to fill their bellies with fresh supplies, cheered despite the knowledge they wouldn’t be permitted to set foot inside the Commander’s banquet hall. Even Richard made an appearance, limping across the courtyard to grab a small crate of tea leaves, smacking his dry lips as he observed the Hawks unloading the crates of bottled gin in the next truck.

The cripple was soon turned away as other Sparrows shoved past to get to the waiting supplies. His sunken gaze froze as he took in Mercedes, who waited restlessly in the shade between the trucks and the kitchen.

“What are you waiting for, Freak?” Richard snarled as he limped past her, his lips curling in disgust as he took in her clean appearance and visibly eye-catching white hair. “Or are you suddenly too good for hard labor now that you’ve netted yourself a fancy bird?”

Mercedes scoffed and decided he wasn’t worth engaging with. She shook her head and headed around the line of trucks towards the reception foyer. Despite his limp, Richard managed to cut her off, nearly shouldering the smaller Sparrow into the disorganized supply lines that swelled around them.

“Running off to tattle to your Raven, Corpse Girl? Do you think a few tears will convince him to take you with him? Is that it?” Richard barked out a laugh. “I doubt he'll even remember your pasty face after finally being reunited with his High Priestess.”

Mercedes exhaled forcefully as she met the seething Sparrow’s gaze. “Leave me alone unless you want your other leg broken.” She took a single step towards him and smiled as Richard stumbled back, brown eyes flickering with awakening terror, then side-stepped around him as she continued toward the side entrance of the castle foyer.

“Carrots, cabbage, onions, and peas—we got a veritable soup salad in the making,” Christine monotoned as she appeared suddenly in Mercedes’s path, forcing the pale Sparrow to swerve out of the way. “Oops. Almost got your new togs dirty.”

“Show a little discipline, Sparrow C731,” Hawk Charles barked out before signaling Mercedes to join him in the foyer. “You’ve been summoned to the Temple. I take it you know why?”

Mercedes swallowed and then nodded, momentarily at a loss for words as her heart thudded uncharacteristically out of rhythm. The moment she both dreaded and longed for was here.

‘All or nothing. Like Ray said, I’ll only get one shot at the High Priestess.’

“Good Luck, Sparrow M731,” Charles said before stepping past her to take control of the chaos unfolding in the courtyard. “Single file, empty each truck front to back, stop cherry picking you lazy runts. It all has to go to the kitchen and be checked off the inventory list before a single one of you gets to sit down to eat.”