Apocalypse Nyx by Kameron Hurley

Author:Kameron Hurley [Hurley, Kameron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781616962944
Google: WYCtswEACAAJ
Amazon: B0778PVLMM
Publisher: Tachyon Publications
Published: 2018-05-31T16:00:00+00:00

SOULBOUND

“Whoever destroys a soul, it is considered as if he destroyed an entire world. And whoever saves a life, it is considered as if he saved an entire world.”

—Babylonian Talmud Sanhedrin 37a

NYX HAD BEEN FALLING APART since the magicians put her back together again sometime after the war. Now, at thirty, staring down the barrel of an acid gun, she figured she was about to break apart for good. She’d heard that lots of people found God again when looking that hard at death, but mostly she felt relief. At thirty, Nyx was lucky to be alive, let alone facing a messy death at the end of a gun.

The kid holding the gun was fresh from the front, so fresh it looked like she still had all of her original fingers. The dusty corridor of the hotel was tight. The girl had swung up the gun just as Nyx came up from murdering one of the hotel’s security guards. Nyx let her gaze tarry on those smooth fingers, fascinated with the final details of her own death.

But the fingers gave the girl away: too straight, unblemished, not a callous or crack or dirty fingernail. Those weren’t the hands of a kid who’d spent time with weapons in trenches. They weren’t the hands of a kid who knew how to handle a big girl gun. Nyx followed the line of the fingers up to the trigger device, and the little round safety plug that was still inserted just behind it.

“Bloody amateur,” Nyx said, and lunged.

The girl fumbled with the gun, frantically clicking the locked trigger. Nyx ripped the weapon away and bashed her on the side of the head with it. The girl stumbled against the bullet-riddled wall of the hallway and sat hard on her rump.

The door to the stairwell behind the girl popped open. Anneke burst in, rifle first. She brought with her the stink of gun oil and citronella. Anneke was a wiry, fearsome little woman with a face like a hammer. She was nearly as dark as a Chenjan, but far less modest, geared up in her dhoti and breast binding—though she really didn’t need one—and little else. Her lips were smeared red with sen, and when she spoke, she showed crimson-stained teeth, like some demon from a Chenjan parable.

“Lotta fucking stairs, boss,” Anneke said, huffing hard.

“You seen any more of her team down there?” Nyx asked. “We’ve got four more notes to fill.”

“Naw, just the one in the morgue.”

“Where’s Khos?”

“Got tied up at the morgue with Rhys.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Rhys said, uh, autopsies take time.”

“She had a gun at my head.”

“Bad place for it,” Anneke said, “hardest place on the skull, there.” Anneke spit on the floor next to the girl. The sputum was bloody red with sen. She nudged the girl with her boot. The girl squinted up at Anneke, vomited, and promptly passed out.

Nyx might have hit her too hard. Could have been Nyx down there on the floor, bloody and vomiting her guts out.

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