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  FACELESS. Copyright © 2021 by JR White

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover designed by MiblArt

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. The End

  2. Nightmare

  3. Wanted Dead or Alive

  4. Lost Humanity

  5. The Note

  6. Whispers from the past

  7. Young Blood

  8. Shattered Dreams

  9. Facing Death

  10. Hard Truths

  11. Deja Vu

  12. Breakthrough

  13. Last One Standing

  14. Eye of the Storm

  15. Thicker Than Water

  16. Never Forgotten

  17. Abducted

  18. Escape

  19. The Invasion

  20. The Ransom

  21. Broken

  22. Arrival

  23. Life and Death

  24. One More Monster

  25. Forgotten Memories

  26. Remnants of the past

  27. Redemption

  28. Answers

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Someone screams. I do not look up. No one does; not anymore. The high-pitched sound is as familiar as the beat of our dying hearts. Why is this so? How long have I lived this reality? I cannot remember. Where understanding once was, only shadows remain. I am empty. Almost. Except for him.

  I clench the worn, faded photo wrapped in a piece of tattered cloth in my hand. It is the only link I have to my past. A young man and woman smile up at me. The woman, whose slender face and searing blue eyes had been mine before they’d been stolen, stands beside a man with hair the color of ebony, emeralds for eyes, and a shy smile. I no longer know him, but he is the key to unlocking who I am.

  I keep walking through the vast caves and twisting tunnels, guided by the pulsing blue veins woven throughout the substrate. Can they see me? Are they watching? If so, I am dead, but dead is better than what I am now. The danger makes my heart beat fast, a familiar feeling.

  Another turn. I arrive at the cavern that reeks of death. Moans echo from the huddled creatures dotting the landscape. Once human, now only forgotten. There are so many. Filthy, nameless, their faces erased by masks the color of bone. Unable to think for themselves, they are all but soulless, and no longer of use to our masters; the invaders who’ve claimed our world as their own. Now they wait to die. Most are silent, but some cry, even if they do not know the reason for their tears. The ones sobbing still have strength. I choose two, huddled close together. Taking hold of their frail hands, I haul them to their feet. They follow without question. They are programmed to.

  We pass through more tunnels, winding and turning, until there is sunlight. Unaccustomed to the light, it hurts, but it is nice, though it is not why I am here. I reach up to my ear to feel the metal ring embedded there. I tighten my grip. I do not want to, but I have no choice. I rip the ring down and bite my lip to keep from screaming.

  Pain. Blood. So, I am alive. For how much longer?

  My master’s metallic screams echo in my head. They know I am gone. There is no more time. I shred two pieces of cloth from the hem of my filthy shirt and use my blood as ink. Hands shaking, I wrap one note around the ring, the other around a blue piece of cloth that I keep with the photo.

  I turn back to my messengers and fight for almost forgotten words to give them their purpose.

  “Do… not... let... go.”

  The two nod. I hold up my picture, pointing to the man.

  “Find... him. Give... to... him.”

  They nod again.

  “Go.”

  They flee from the tunnel into the fading sunlight. The Inferus’ voice continues to scream in my head. I must obey. I stagger back down the tunnel. They are there. Their claws dig into my arms, and I wince as they drag me along the rocky ground. The price of disappointment.

  “Zero Zero Seven, get back in line,” a metallic voice grates in my head. My number used to amuse me; I can’t remember why. I do as I am bid. Bleeding, I rejoin the masses. A part of the machine, surrounded by hundreds of other masked shells like me, but not quite. I am different; I have hope. But is it enough? I am still a slave, still dying. I am still Faceless.

  One

  The End

  Bash tore across the desert ground, gasping for breath. He vaulted over sagebrush and dodged around lethal looking cacti.

  Why? Today, of all days? He reached up and touched the engraved gold loop in his left ear. A year since her death. Pain pulsed through his heart, fresh as if inflicted only yesterday. So much for a calm afternoon left alone to grieve.

  “Bash, they’re gaining on us!” a panicked voice grounded him, followed by the howls and snarls of their pursuers.

  He glanced left. Hades raced beside him, and despite his limp, managed to keep up. Golden-brown hair whipped about his friend’s face. The faded blue cloth tied around his forehead did little to keep the strands away from his determined blue eyes.

  Bash grunted, concentrating on the red dirt and rocks in an attempt not to trip and fall as they raced towards the setting sun. A familiar growl sounded, drawing his attention to the gold and black German shepherd veering from his right.

  “Skull Crusher, heel!” The dog’s ears perked, and he shot back to Bash’s side.

  “Almost there!” Hades called.

  Bash braced as snarls and howls erupted all around. Behind him, the monster’s jaws snapped, claws scratching against stone as he vaulted off the jagged cliff.

  The air escaped from his lungs; the wind tearing at his hair and clothes. His feet pierced the ocean and icy water flooded over him, dragging him into its depths. He flipped around and kicked, dragging himself through the murky water until he broke the surface and gulped in the salty, humid air.

  Heart still racing, he scanned the cliff’s edge above. Dark, bony shadows prowled, snapping and snarling at one another, their rotting hides turning red in the light of the dying sun. He shuddered. They’d come too close to being dinner. Good thing they’re afraid of water.

  Bash’s gaze wandered from the bickering beasts overhead to where Skully paddled not far off. A knot tightened in his stomach. Where’s Hades? He spun in a circle, searching the choppy waves. Hades popped up beside him, gasping and laughing. Of course he’s laughing. Bash’s tension eased.

  “Well, that was fun.” Hades coughed, spitting a mouthful of surf back into the sea, his face scrunching at the taste.

  “You have a strange sense of humor.”

  “Do not.”

  “If you consider running for your life from a horde of rabids ‘fun,’ I’d say that counts as strange,” Bash called over his shoulder, his faded t-shirt and jeans sticking to his skin and dragging him down.

  “Well, at least we made it to the beach.” Hades' eyes darted to the shoreline as he readjusted his ancient backpack. “Kinda.”

  “It’s not like it matters now.” Bash sighed and started swimming away, following the cliff line.

  The sun touched the horizon by the time Bash felt they’d put enough distance between them and the monsters. Either way, they had little choice; it would be dark soon. He veered left toward a small strip of beach. Skully paddled alongside him, his large golden eyes wide as he kept his ears and nose above the waves.

  “Good boy.” Bash passed one last glance backward to make su
re Hades was keeping up, then focused his remaining strength on staying afloat and reaching land.

  It wasn’t a white, sandy beach like the south-west coast had once been, but one of rough red clay. Bash dragged his sopping wet body up from the edge of the surf and collapsed onto his knees. Skully panted beside him and shook before plodding off and settling down on a patch of dry earth.

  Scrutinizing the desert landscape, Bash’s hand instinctively rested on the wood-handled machete at his side. The small alcove of beach was empty, a massive cliff rising to enclose it.

  “Ah.” Hades sighed, discarding his soaked bag to the side and plopping down next to Bash. “Thank you, Las Vegas, for taking one for the team and giving good old Nevada beachfront property.” He chuckled, also surveying the area.

  Bash’s chest tightened, and he tried not to remember the horrendous floods, earthquakes and other natural disasters that had defined his childhood and re-sculpted the world. “How can you joke about that? Millions of lives were lost.”

  Hades cracked an eye and struggled into a sitting position. “Come on, dubbing yourself ‘Sin City’? They were just asking to be destroyed.” He shook his head, his wet hair flying. “So much for it being impossible that California could ever sink into the ocean.” He laughed, rising to his feet and stretching.

  Bash followed suit and took a deep breath. “The end of the world isn’t a joke, and using the word ‘impossible’ is just tempting fate.” His fingers tightened into fists. “Look at the evidence. California sink? Impossible! The whole western seafront disappeared faster than the Titanic. Mutating pathogens with no cure? Impossible! Really? A virus wiped out most of humanity. Oh, and the few that survived? Aliens are currently picking them off one at a time. Even the strongest, the ones you think it’ll be impossible to lose? We’re left to watch, helpless to do anything.” Bash threw up his hands, stalking toward the back of the inlet and the cliff walls enclosing it.

  “I’m sorry,” Hades called after him.

  Reaching the base of the cliff, Bash turned back to find Hades shirtless and ringing out the excess water over the sand. Bash rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I didn’t mean to blow up like that. Today just downright sucked.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.” Hades tugged his shirt on with a smirk. “But for the record, you can be a real ass sometimes.”

  They both laughed, and the tense atmosphere dispelled. Skully sauntered to Bash’s side, his ears perked and his tail wagging. Bash ran his fingers over his dog's fur and Hades stopped alongside him, staring up at the cliff face.

  “Well, this should be—”

  “Don’t you dare say fun.” Bash eyed the cliff as well, trying to determine the best route for climbing. Skully dashed up the steep incline along a barely perceivable animal trail. That’ll work.

  “Let’s just try to make it home in one piece.” Bash headed after Skully. Gauging each step, he started the ascent, doing his best to ignore the shear drop off. His eyes lingered on the ocean, then darted back to the earth wall they were halfway up. With the setting sun turning everything crimson, it was easy to see why the edge of their destroyed world had once been dubbed the Valley of Fire.

  “If you think about it,” Hades grunted, dragging himself along behind Bash. “We kinda deserved it—the end of the world. Humans were killing the Earth, ignoring its calls of distress, and still demanding more. It was only a matter of time before something drastic happened.”

  Drastic? That didn’t even begin to cover what had happened. “So what? This is all our fault?” Bash glanced over his shoulder, but Hades wasn’t looking at him. His blue eyes, identical to hers, focused on where he was placing his hands and feet.

  “What about the Inferus? Were they our fault too?” Bash wiped away the sweat dripping down his forehead.

  “You really are a pessimist, you know.”

  Whatever. Bash shrugged as he continued towards the top. Skully scrambled the last few feet and disappeared from view. Exerting all of his strength, Bash leapt after the dog. His fingers dug into soft soil that crumbled in his hands as he slid backward. Crap!

  “Bash!” Hades called out.

  Bash clawed at the dirt, latching onto nothing as he slipped backward. Skully lunged, grabbing the front of his shirt with his teeth. Throwing himself forward, Bash grabbed the shifting soil and clambered up the last few feet. Heart in his throat, he collapsed on the top of the cliff. Damn, that was close. He looked back down. Hades stared up, wide-eyed.

  “Good dog, Skully,” Bash said, panting. The dog whined and pranced around, nudging him with his nose. He scratched Skully’s head and turned to help Hades. His best friend grabbed the offered hand. Bash heaved with the last of his strength before letting go and Hades crumpled beside him, gasping.

  A deep growl emanated from Skully, and they both jumped. He bared his teeth, hackles raised. Bash followed his line of sight to the desert ahead.

  “Easy, Skully.” Bash’s stomach twisted, and he placed his hand on the shepherd’s narrow back. They’re still out there.

  Skully growled again. Bash stood, taking deep breaths as he gripped his machete.

  “Here,” Hades whispered, all humor gone. He drew even with Bash and handed him a solar-powered flashlight. Bash clicked it on. Several deep growls sounded. Hand trembling, he pointed his light toward the sounds and froze as a sea of glowing red eyes stared back.

  “Rabids!” Bash hissed, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He slipped the machete from the makeshift leather sheath at his hip.

  “What the hell are they doing here? I thought we left them behind.” Hades tugged his hatchet from the clasp on the side of his backpack.

  So did I. The glowing-eyed creatures spread out, encircling them but lingering just beyond the light. Their growls pierced the darkening landscape, and their eyes reflected the last gleam of the setting sun. Heart racing, Bash flipped around and pressed his back to Hades’. Skully leaned against his legs and continued to growl.

  Bash lifted the light higher and bile rose in his throat. A writhing mass of grotesque forms surrounded them. The creatures varied in sizes, but all of them were similar in description. Thick scaly skin covered in sparse hair and sores stretched tight over every bone as their bulbous, milky eyes flashed with ravenous hunger. A powerful stench of rotting flesh permeated the air.

  Bash grimaced, tightening his grip on his weapon’s hilt. How had these things ever resembled the beautiful, proud creature growling at his side? One bite or scratch was all that stood between Skully and them. He couldn't comprehend the disease that riddled their bodies. Once considered man’s best friend, they were now nothing more than their worst nightmare.

  “This isn’t right; they shouldn’t be here,” Hades said.

  It was strange. The occasional lone rabid was common enough, but a pack of ten? A horde of that size tended to stick to cities and towns where they were more likely to wander across their favorite meal—human flesh.

  Hades waved his flashlight in front of him, making the creature’s shriek and scramble back. The poorly sighted beasts abhorred light, and for the moment, the flashlights were keeping them at bay. It wouldn’t deter them for long. Their hunger would override their pain—it always did.

  “We need to make one of them bleed,” Bash muttered. The smell would send them into a frenzy. I hope it’ll be enough. The blood of their own would engage them for a moment, but it was nothing compared to human blood. If the monsters injured either him or Hades, it would all be over.

  One of the mutilated animals charged and took a running leap for Bash’s throat. The stench of rot hit him full force. He gagged, thrusting his machete upward. The weapon sank into scabbed flesh. A pained howl erupted, and Bash twisted his wrist. The beast's horrific cries cut off into a wet gurgle, and he shoved its carcass away. The rabids charged forward.

  “Run!” Bash yelled. He raced after Hades and Skully as the creatures swarmed over the twitching body of their fallen pack mate.

/>   Ignoring the burning aches in his sides and legs, Bash raced across the sand. If we can just make it back to the compound—

  A force barreled into Bash like a freight train, throwing him back. He slammed onto the ground, stars exploding in his eyes as he gasped for breath. What the hell was that? Heart thundering, he sat up, wiping the dirt and dark hair out of his eyes. A white oval shape loomed in his hazy vision.

  The dizziness subsided. Crap! Faceless! Bash scrambled backward, fumbling through the dirt for his weapon. Where is it? His flashlight flickered a few yards away.

  “Stop…”

  Bash froze. It can speak? He stared as the creature crouched down. Shirtless and filthy, bones jutted out from under the leathered skin of the enslaved human male.

  “I… give.” It leaned toward him, arm outstretched. Bash jumped as a hatchet flew past him, embedding itself into the Faceless' neck.

  Hades appeared and wrenched his weapon out of the dead creature’s body before dashing over to him. “Can you walk?”

  Bash nodded, staring wide-eyed at the Faceless.

  “Those rabids want human blood; they can have it. Just not ours!” Hades threw Bash’s arm over his shoulders, helping him struggle to his feet. He was off balance and still light-headed, but he could stand. Why did it talk? And why was there only one Faceless? There’s never just one. Bash glanced back at the creature. Its hand fell open, revealing a frayed piece of cloth. He leaned down but stumbled back when Hades shoved him in the opposite direction.

  “Bash, we gotta go, man. The rabids will be here any second!” Hades pushed Bash’s missing machete into his hand and dragged him along the darkened desert.