Chapter 8

The ground floor was empty, a single light blinking on and off near the concierge’s desk. It looked untouched, however, and it was silent. Our footsteps echoed as we approached the exit. Gene had blood on his ears, but it was already beginning to dry. He was clutching his camera tightly. Couldn’t blame him - that thing saved our lives.

“Hasn’t even been a day and we’re already a mess,” Gene said, his voice soft. I stopped by the concierge’s desk, hoping to find something of use, but there was nothing there. “Where’d you get that gun, anyway?”

“Ysandra ga- lent it to me back in the frozen apartment.” I ducked under the desk, and sure enough there was a first aid kit attached to the bottom. It had a few bandages, two bottles of alcohol, and bits of gauze inside, as well as a small flashlight.

Gene was at the door, trying to peek through the translucent glass. “It’s too dark to see outside. Also, the door’s locked. What’s the plan here?”

What was the plan? We still had two days to prepare for… something. I really should’ve asked Ysandra more questions, but I was in so much of a rush to contact my friends that it completely slipped my mind. I checked my phone. No signal.

“We can’t stay here,” I finally decided after a few minutes of thinking. “Who knows if our friend up above has buddies of his own.” I handed Gene a bottle of alcohol and some bandages. “Get yourself cleaned up. We can’t go out there looking like we barely survived a fight.”

We spent a few minutes getting the worst of the dirt, ash, and blood off of ourselves. My left hand now had two nasty scars running parallel across it, and they stung as I washed it with some alcohol. I wrapped it carefully in some bandages and put the first aid kit inside my bag, on top of the nanobot tubes. Hopefully my healing can take care of that...

“There’s a stairwell over there, behind that grey door. It should lead to the basement. Maybe we can hotwire a car or something.”

“Uh, I wouldn’t recommend it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Gene had wrapped his camera’s lens in some bandages, and he inspected it thoroughly as he explained. “Too much shit on the roads. We wouldn’t get anywhere if we took a car.”

“Fair enough. I guess we just go outside and hope for the best?”

He shrugged. “Been doing that all week, man.”

The stairwell was dark, and also eerily empty. We made our way to the basement carefully, always alert in case Knife Nut or any other hostile was after us. The flashlight from the first aid kit wasn’t very strong, but it would have to suffice. Finally, we reached the bottom, and to my surprise, the door was… missing.

“That’s not a good sign,” I said. I shone the flashlight all over the basement, its light glinting off of several cars. I nodded to Gene and we silently went outside. I motioned towards the only other light source in the basement - the guard outpost by the exit ramp.

“Yo, someone’s over there!” said Gene as he waved to get the person’s attention. “Hey. HEY! Over here! We’re alive and could use some help!”

I put my hand over his mouth and dragged him behind a car. “Dude, are you insane?! What if he attacks us? You just gave away our position!” I heard the chair scraping all the way across the garage. “Shit.”

I let go of Gene and we took a peek above the car. The light by the outpost was still on, but there was no longer anyone there. I strained my ears, trying to determine if someone, anyone, was moving towards us, but there was nothing.

“I say we just make a break for it,” Gene suggested. I nodded in agreement.

“We run on three. One. Two…”

“THREE!”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, and Gene banged the back of his head on the car in surprise. There was a third person with us. Near. Too near. I drew my gun and pointed it around wildly, scanning for any targets.

“Oops! Relax!” the third voice said again, this time from the other side of the car. “I’m not here to hurt you guys, I swear.”

“The hell you’re not! We just had another of your kind attack us a half an hour ago!” Gene screamed, the terror in his voice obvious. My heart was also beating a lot faster too, and I could feel sweat forming on my forehead.

“My ki- ah. You mean the Brand? Look, put down the gun, and I’ll come around the car with my hands up.”

“Okay.” I put the Tesla back into its holster. I was still on high alert, and I could feel the tension coming from Gene to my right as well.

“Wrong side, buddy.”

I slammed into Gene and we tumbled onto the asphalt; the flashlight from the first aid kit blinked a few times before dying. I scrambled to my feet, looking for the source of the voice. A phone’s flashlight activated, and there was a guy in a black-and-white striped hoodie right next to where I was just a few seconds ago.

“SORRY! SORRY!” he apologized with a slight bow. “I, uh, I dunno how this thing works. My Brand, I mean.”

“Sweet mother of- who are you? How did you-?” Gene was still on the floor, hugging his camera tightly.

“The name’s Noire Terlin,” the new guy began. “I’ve been hiding from those… other people… for the past two days. Actually, three, because I was captured on the day I got this.” He dropped down on one knee and put his phone on the ground, making sure to keep the light focused on him. He rolled up his dirtied jeans, all the way to his knees, revealing a Brand shaped like a crescent moon visible against his light brown skin:

Instead of being an inert black like mine and Gene’s were most of the time, Noire’s Brand was glowing a soft silvery-white, making it look like a real miniature moon. “It hasn’t stopped glowing ever since I got it. And, well…” He stood up and began jogging in place. Despite the heavy-looking sneakers, he… he made no sound. At all. I closed my eyes to try and focus my senses, but I just couldn’t pick anything up.

“So… yeah. Sorry for sneaking up on you like that. I swear I didn’t mean it.” Noire stood back up. “We cool?”

Gene had finally gotten up to his feet and put his hand on my shoulder as turned me around, whispering, “I was right. I think he has the same Brand as the dude from your penthouse.” He kept looking back at Noire, as if making sure he wouldn’t disappear all of a sudden. “How are you sure it’s not him? He’s about the same height, right?”

I shook my head, recounting the smell of smoke and flesh. “Trust me, there is NO way that dude can recover that quick. Besides, if we have Noire on our side, we’d have a way to scout around without drawing much attention.”

“Uh, hey, sorry! I, uh, I can hear you both.”

“See? He even has enhanced hearing!” I turned back around and extended a hand to our newfound ally. “Name’s Blaze.” Noire took my hand and shook it. “That guy over there is Gene.”

“Nice to meet you.” Noire in turn extended a hand towards Gene, who eyed it with suspicion but shook it, albeit reluctantly.

“Right. Look, I don’t think it’s safe to discuss much down here,” I explained as I walked towards the exit. “Someone attacked us at my apartment upstairs - someone who didn’t make any sound with his footsteps, like you.” As if in response, Noire slammed a fist onto the hood of a car, stopping me in my tracks. Gene covered his ears, wincing in pain.

“What was that for?!” he complained.

Noire put his hands up, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. Uh, but yeah, I don’t make any sounds if the surface I’m walking on is, uh, cement. Or solid gravel. Certain woods too. But metal?” He jumped up onto the hood of the car and jogged in place, much like he did earlier. This time around, the clang of aluminum rang out.

Interesting. Because the metal is vibrating completely independent of Noire’s movements, it’s still making a sound.

“Hey, big guy, stop rubbing your chin and let’s get the hell out of here.”

I shook my head. “Right. Noire? You mind if you scout ahead and check for anything… dangerous? Hostile?”

“Sure thing.” He ran off towards the exit in a silent jog.

“Man, that’s kinda unnerving isn’t it?” Gene muttered.

“SORRY!” Noire shouted back.

“No use complaining. Let’s go.”

Noire was at the top of the exit ramp with his eyes closed, turning his head around and probably listening for any threats. Gene and I knelt down beside him, taking in the sight of Mulberry’s disrepair.

“I don’t hear anything,” Noire said, his brown eyes reflecting the flames eating at a truck nearby. For the first time since I got out of the hospital, I finally got a good look at the remains of Mulberry.

It was even more of a mess than I initially thought. Cars, bikes, and other vehicles were strewn about the area; some were on fire, some were frozen in place, others with rusty steel and aluminum as if they were hit by something corrosive. The wind howled through the wreckages, and the burnt and blackened trees creaked and groaned in complaint. Everything was covered in a thin layer of light grey ash. And littered everywhere were different articles of clothing - jackets, shirts, blouses, pants, shoes, their owners having Disappeared.

Maybe they’re the lucky ones, eh?

I suddenly heard something crashing against the steel of the cars, causing the three of us to flatten ourselves against the wall. The noise got louder as it got closer and closer, before finally stopping against a delivery truck with one final groan. A different light now shone from where the object stopped - the trunk of a tree with bright green leaves. No, not just the trunk - it was the entire tree itself. It radiated life - its roots crept along the ground, searching for soil to cling on to; new leaves kept growing, each as vibrant as the last; and some of its branches extended upwards, reaching towards the sky.

“Wh- how?” Gene sounded enraptured, then began to approach the tree like a moth to light.

“Hey. Gene. HEY.” I grabbed him by the shoulder, trying to get him back against the wall. “What do you think you’re doing?!” He shook me off angrily, and sprinted towards the tree. “Shit! Noire, you sure there’s nothing around?”

“Hundred percent.”

We followed closely behind Gene, trying not to trip on the roots, the rubble, and the ash. Gene had stopped in front of the tree as if hypnotized, and was reaching out towards the massive trunk.

“Gene, I don’t thi-” I was interrupted by a massive flash of light, blinding me. When I recovered, the tree had withered, and a pine green pulsing emanated from his left arm. Gene was shaking - whether because it was cold or something else, I couldn’t be sure.

Noire was the first to reach him, but he didn’t say anything. Neither did I. Our friend was still looking at the trunk, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of… oh no.

There, surrounded by the dead and rotting husk of a tree trunk, a body laid unmoving. Its eyes were hollow, its cheekbones visible through a pale grey skin, its body so worn and thin I could see its rib cage sticking out. Its mouth was open in a perpetual scream of agony. And its limbs… its limbs had transformed into now-rotting wood, connected directly to its wooden coffin. A familiar sprout mark - a Nabaath Brand - was still etched on its forehead.

“What is this?!” Gene stammered out. “This… body…did it transform into a tree?” He turned to me, eyes wide and angry. “Is this what’s gonna happen to us? To me?”

As his Brand glowed brighter, something grew out of the ash. Out of the cement. Out of the death of Mulberry, new life sprouted forth - a spiky bush that slowly wrapped around Gene’s ankles and slowly wrapped around his body. “What else did Ysandra forget to tell us? Huh?!” I tried to grab the growth, hoping to burn them off with my own Brand, but the mark on my hand stayed black and inactive.

“Oh no. It’s happening. Blaze, we either have to calm him down or get the hell out of here,” Noire implored me.

“Why? What’s happening?”

“Uh, emotional overload. Brands, they… they tend to activate out of our control when we’re under a lot of stress, at least when they’re still new.”

“The fuck does that mean?!” Gene roared. He didn’t seem to care that his left leg was now fully wrapped in a tangle of leaves and spikes. “What do you know? TELL ME!”

“Gene, please. You need to calm down. This must be what Ysandra meant by Branded going out of control!”

“Yes, he’s right,” Noire confirmed, nodding to the corpse, “and if you don’t calm down, you’ll end up like this guy.”

“How… how sure are you?”

“Hundred percent. I told you I was captured on the first day I got this Brand, right?” Noire kept his voice calm and steady. “I didn’t get out just because I could sneak away.”

Manic moans of pleasure echoed through the empty house. Noire had been tied up here for… long. Too long, he reckoned, because the sunlight no longer blinded him through the broken window. He had stopped struggling against his restraints hours ago; all he got for his trouble was a raw wrist and a broken fingernail.

The girl walked in, naked except for a single thin sheet. Her hair was frayed, and she had a lazy smile on her face. She was shaking a little as she went to the boiling pot on the stove.

“Honey! Steve! I think our little concoction’s ready!”

“Be right there!” Steve shouted back. There was scuffling from within the room, and a tall, emaciated man limped into the kitchen, a rope wrapped around shorts that were far too loose for him. He went over to the girl and wrapped his lanky arms around her. From the corner where Noire was tied up in, he could see a tattoo of a lightning bolt in the middle of his back.

“Oh, I can do with a few more rounds, baby girl.”

The girl giggled, but shook her lover away. “Now, now. We can do that after I’m Branded. Now,” she said as she turned to her captive, “shall we?” She took a rusty-looking knife from the counter and approached Noire, who was now struggling against his bonds again. “It’s really too bad I can’t hear you squirm.”

She knelt down, her sheet barely hiding anything. “This is going to hurt.” Her smile revealed rows of rotten yellow teeth, and her breath smelled fishy. She touched Noire’s Brand, and was about to pierce his skin when he heard a knife clang against the dusty tiles and a thin sheet floated to the floor.

Noire, who had closed his eyes to brace against the pain, slowly opened his eyes. The girl had disappeared, and her partner was standing slack jawed in disbelief. “What… what the fuck did you do?!”

Not that Noire could reply, because he was gagged with a dirty rag. The man fell to his knees, tears pouring out of his face. “No. No no no. They said she wouldn’t go. They said she can get her own tattoo when she eats… YOU!” He suddenly lashed out, moving far too quicker than normal, and overshot Noire, instead hitting the wall behind him.

“AAAGGGH!” Steve was now… zipping… first across the kitchen, then through another wall, and straight into the half-broken TV in the living room. His body stopped moving for a few moments, his left arm twitching despite the femur now sticking out of his skin. Blood slowly pooled around his body. Noire managed to tear his eyes away from the terrible sight, and used his feet to feel for the rusty knife. The sheet wasn’t making things any easier. Something twitched in the corner of his eye, and when Noire looked up Steve’s corpse had disappeared.

Panicked, he desperately tried to shake away the sheet to get a better view of the knife; a loud banging distracted him. Something was slamming against the opposite wall, trying to destroy it. Cracks snaked their way across the plaster, slowly widening until a body came in, dragging itself with its broken legs. It came to stop right on top of the sheet, slowly dyeing it a bright red. The lightning bolt tattoo on its back was randomly sputtering a bright, electric blue; its exposed and fracture bones would randomly spark the same color, like someone had cut a power cord.

Noire tried his best to not throw up - not a good idea with a gag still in his mouth. He finally managed to slide the knife across the floor using the back of his foot, then he twisted his body, putting his hands within its reach.

After a few minutes, he finally managed to cut himself free. He immediately removed the gag and ran to the sink just as he heaved away the acid in his throat. His wrists, still raw from the rope, stung a little as he cleaned it all up. The pot was still boiling nearby, its steam nearly making him gag again. Jumping around the boiling water were bones that looked all too human…

Gene finally calmed down. “Right. Right. I’m calm. Ish. No panic, no wood. No panic, no wood…” He kept muttering his mantra under his breath, and the bush covering his legs slowly withered away until it left behind a layer of bark on his left leg.

I bent down to examine it once again, knocking on it several times. “Wow…. wow. That’s amazing. Does it… does it hurt?” I asked. He shook his head and tested his new leg. “It looks like medieval plate armor. Except, you know, made of wood.”

“It didn’t replace your actual leg, did it?” Noire sounded concerned, alternating looking at Gene’s leg and the corpse in the trunk. “It… it looks like it replaced your leg. Knights didn’t have that much mobility.”

“They did, actually…”

“Please stop pulling my leg, Blaze.”

Gene interrupted us. “It feels like a natural fit. Like boots, except higher and not as constraining. I can’t even tell if the wood is rough or not, ‘cuz my pants aren’t even ripped, I think. And my shoes also feel just fine. Wish I had a second… let me try again...”

We waited for a few seconds, but nothing happened.

“Interesting. Interesting,” I muttered. “It's not like the bonemetal of Eisen...”

“Well, no harm, no foul. And uh, thanks, Noire. You too, Blaze.”

“No problem. We’re a team, right?” I extended a fist, which Gene gladly bumped with his own.

“Team?” Noire asked.

“Oh right. I’ll tell you the whole thing once we’re safe, I promise.”

Noire nodded. “Okay, that’s fair. Luckily, I know a place. Follow me.”