Singularity (Infinite Timeline Book 13) by Jeremy Robinson

Singularity (Infinite Timeline Book 13) by Jeremy Robinson

Author:Jeremy Robinson [Robinson, Jeremy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Breakneck Media
Published: 2023-03-20T16:00:00+00:00


33

DARK HORSE

The first thing that goes wrong is my music selection. It’s supposed to be ‘TNT’ by AC/DC, but I must have done something wrong because I’ve got ‘The Sound of Silence’ by Simon & Garfunkel playing in my ear.

And that just makes me sad. Garfunkel was the name I gave to the blue Europhid consciousness occupying my mind. We’ve…merged since then, the two of us becoming one. But that mostly means my personality, emotions, whatever—all the human stuff—with his vast amount of celestial knowledge. And hopefully some of the logic and wisdom. But I still identify as Moses Montgomery, aka Dark Horse, still love my main squeeze, Chuy, and I still have the same passions, hates, and meh feelings about things. Like Limonaid. It’s like flat Sprite. I could drink it, but…meh. Garfunkel’s merger didn’t change any of that.

Feels like I’ve lost a friend. Again.

When Garfunkel and I spoke inside a virtual space in my mind, he took the form of my childhood friend, Max. But those chats have ended, and I feel like I’ve lost Max again…even though everything that was Garfunkel is still part of me.

Fuck, this song is making me sad. I sound like a damn Hallmark movie on the Lifetime Network.

But I can’t do anything about it now. Whatever sent Henry careening like a flicked jumping bean is coming through the gate. And it ain’t little.

We should probably press the attack, but the freakshow stepping its way onto Earth commands my full attention.

It’s thirty feet tall and hunched. Long, dangling clumps of matted hair sway from its furry body. They’re green, from algae, I think. Long curved claws extend from the creature’s feet, and stubby hands are at the ends of its long arms. But none of that is what makes it truly horrible. This monstrosity’s mouth…splits vertically, straight up the middle of its torso. And the real estate on its head is mostly populated by a single, bulbous eyeball that swivels around, spotting each one of us in rapid succession.

Once the creature is fully through the gate, it extends its arms and unleashes an earsplitting roar. Arcs of viscous drool warble and stretch, before snapping and slapping to the ground, propelled by the air flowing from the monster’s lungs. Following the sound is a smell so pungent, I nearly wretch. A few taps later, my mask is on and filtering the odor.

“Good night,” Delgado says, covering his nose, before spotting my raised mask and thinking to do the same for himself. The other three might have to endure the stench. Don’t have time to host a tutorial.

“I got this!” Delgado says, stepping out in front of the beast, plain as day. He raises his weapons, pulls the triggers, and unleashes hundreds of rounds in just a few seconds.

Won’t be long before most of those rounds impact the ocean a mile from here. But some hit the intended target.

And they do little good.

The creature flinches from the first few impacts, but then it just curls in on itself and absorbs the abuse.



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