The Swarm

A Day and a Half Earlier The steady hum that had long become the background noise of life in F-8 shifted into a drawn-out groan and the grinding of metal. “Did they screw up the ventilation or what?” Abel swept his gaze across the seams in the walls where water was seeping through. “Bastards. Bring Mike.” “He probably just passed out. Been drinking for days,” Ryan said, brushing a cloud of dust off his shoulders. “Then let him crawl here,” Abel turned away from the wall and stepped close to him. “Is he a technician or does he just eat off us?” “Got it,” Ryan nodded, noticing how Abel’s face had gone pale with anger. “But why’s it humming like that?” “Let that son of a bitch tell us. Move.” Abel’s voice pushed Ryan forward like a rifle aimed at his back. A thin layer of sweat appeared on Abel’s face. The air had stopped being even remotely fresh, surrendering the space to suffocating heaviness. “Motherfucker…” The overseer of F-8 tried to relax his tense shoulders. Failing, Abel walked toward Mike himself. He found only a body sleeping on the floor. Abel kicked the man hard in the ribs with his boot, drawing a painful gasp. “He’s out cold, Abel,” Ryan shook his head and kicked Mike from the other side. The drawn-out “breaths” of the structure drowned out the technician’s screams as the blows landed. First the nasal septum gave in. Blood filling his throat sobered him instantly. Later Mike himself broke. “Stop… stop,” he pleaded, pushing himself up on one arm. “Why did Yun go there? Who gave permission? You?” Abel’s foot hovered in front of Mike’s face. “The beam shifted… I marked it. Everything by the book,” Mike raised his hands, trying to steer the conversation into calmer waters. “And you couldn’t fucking tell anyone?” Abel roared. His foot slammed heavily into the dusty floor. “Do you understand why they went out there? And what they took? How the hell could you risk everything at once?” “You’d have to be really unlucky for the section to collapse. If you follow the marks it’ll hold for a while,” Mike’s voice was sickeningly apologetic, making Ryan grimace. “You’re saying…” Ryan began, “…they collapsed the ventilation? Buried us alive and ran?” “Someone probably did… or we’re just incredibly unlucky,” Mike tried to joke. “I don’t believe in that kind of bad luck,” Abel said. “They went for the neutralizer. And suddenly, what a coincidence, that’s the last time the ventilation stays alive.” “That’s impossible,” Ryan protested. “Yun’s one of us. He’s normal.” “Then why didn’t your ‘one of us’ turn back when he saw the marks?” Abel said coldly. “I…” Hundreds of memories flashed through Ryan’s mind. Conversations. Jokes. Moments where Yun’s double nature might have shown itself. Nothing gave him an answer. “We’re wasting time,” Abel’s harsh tone snapped them back. “If you keep acting like an animal, I’ll kill you,” he said to Mike. “I’m good. Totally good, I swear,” Mike ruffled his hair, trying to shake off the alcoholic haze. His voice came out wet and gurgling, blood still running from his nose. “Look. Ventilation collapsed, right?” he said, waiting for Ryan’s nod. “The air… isn’t dense. Emergency ventilation is working. There’s an emergency route.” “And how long will that last?” Abel cut him off. “No fucking clue… maybe a couple days,” Mike guessed uncertainly. “Fantastic. Thanks for the expert opinion,” Ryan muttered through clenched teeth. “Technicians don’t see the future. We estimate it,” Mike said nervously, trying to make the bosses smile. “Or drink it away,” Abel replied dryly. “I’m telling you, I did everything right,” Mike stammered. “When Yun comes back, ask him.” “Yun.” Abel spat on the floor as if the name tasted bitter. The technician’s words kept echoing in his mind: the ventilation couldn’t have collapsed on its own. “If you didn’t drink yourself stupid,” Abel suddenly snapped, shoving Mike in the chest, “you’d have gone there instead of Yun and none of this would have happened.” “Who knows,” Mike hissed, staggering back, still tilting his head from the nosebleed. “Maybe he’s lying crushed under the ruins right now.” “What are the chances they made it through?” Abel suddenly asked, his voice unexpectedly softer. “Fifty-fifty,” Mike shrugged. “I’m amazed anyone in this sector managed to grow old with specialists like you,” Ryan muttered, leaning against the wall. “Let’s go,” Abel nudged Mike with his elbow. “We’ll check everything.” The clicks of metal formed a ridiculous melody while Mike stared at the supporting arch. Rust glowed brightly in the beam of the flashlight. Old water stains along the seams, blackened from constant moisture, spoke of dozens of missed replacement deadlines. “We need to report this to sector A or B, Abel…” Mike whispered, afraid to disturb the fragile balance of the structure. Bolts were slightly pulled out of the wall. That confirmed the technician’s suspicion that the rock around the anchor had eroded. The metal thread that held the arch near the support was losing grip. “You think they suddenly started giving a shit?” Abel smirked. “How long did they ignore our maintenance requests? Two years?” “Abel… the arch is going. Everything here will collapse. A day… maybe two. We need to evacuate the people.” “Get a grip, Mike!” Abel’s shout echoed loudly before he immediately dropped to a whisper. “The sector is full of old people. Former messengers and rat feeders. When was the last time they sent us a proper dog squad? We’re a burden.” “But the protocol—” “The protocol will bury us. We won’t get everyone out. Are you ready to choose?” Mike swallowed nervously. “So what do you suggest?” “We report to sector A. Sure. But not a word to the people. Panic, stampede. If they manage to evacuate them in time, great.” “And us?” Mike asked, suddenly realizing where Abel was going. “We go first. Right now,” Ryan cut in. “You’re the technician. Get us out.” “We’ll gather a few capable ones who can help on the surface,” Abel added. “But not many. It’ll look suspicious if all the young ones disappear.” Another echo of bending metal rolled through the walls. “But the people…” Mike insisted weakly. “You said we have a couple of days. They’ll make it. We’ll go to the nearest sector for help,” Abel concluded. “D-16?” Ryan asked. “D-16,” Abel nodded. “Bet our Yun will be there.” Ryan cracked his knuckles. “Go ahead. Follow the protocol,” Abel mocked Mike. Mike had never been so grateful for the surviving telephone cables. The bundle connecting the sectors was the only window to the world for F-8. The cables were color-coded by connection type. Not many had survived, but the main one to sector A-2 still worked. His hands moved quickly through the cables in the communication room. He silently thanked fate that their poor sector had inherited an old infrastructure tunnel from the past. The metal receiver clicked into the communication node before a voice crackled through the static. “A-2 online.” The calm, cold tone knocked Mike off balance. “F-8. Technician. The arch cracked. The curve is already bending. People need evacuation.” “Request accepted. According to protocol you must call again in one hour to confirm sector viability,” the woman’s voice remained completely indifferent to the fate of F-8. “Help is close.” “Understood,” Mike exhaled and hung up. He had already informed Abel’s man about the mandatory follow-up call. The hardest part was convincing the remaining worker that their home would last another couple of days. “Absolutely, buddy,” Mike smiled as he left the room. “Word of a master.” The group of men Abel assembled waited for him. There were five of them. According to Abel’s calculations, that was the maximum number who could leave without raising suspicion. Mike the technician. Ryan his right hand. Two thugs to make the road to D-16 manageable. The unnecessary phone call had saved time. Emergency ventilation started in a side niche of the tunnel. A recess in the concrete with a rusted plate that once read: “Vent… Shaft… 12. Tech… Access.” The first obstacle was a metal grate whose bolts resisted Mike’s tools. Sweating, he cursed quietly. The air was growing heavier. “Something’s blocking it,” Mike sighed. “Or this thing’s about to collapse too. Faster,” Ryan snapped. The noise carried deep into the residential sector. “Idiot,” Abel hissed. “If I wanted to leave with witnesses screaming, I wouldn’t have ordered silence.” Mike nodded. Inside, he saw an open vertical shaft. Cold concrete rising upward with a ladder along the side. “Careful, one at a time,” Mike whispered. Abel grabbed his shoulder. “You die, who gets us out?” he said, turning to one of the thugs. “You. Go. Or are you scared of a ladder?” The man snorted and started climbing. Dust fell into his eyes. “There’s a second tunnel on the left up there,” Mike explained. “I’ll figure it out,” the man replied. The metal groaned under his steps. “Solid,” his voice echoed from above. “Quiet, idiot,” Abel snapped. Then the man fell silent. A scream began somewhere above. A headless corpse dropped to Abel’s feet. “I told you something was there,” Mike squealed, retreating. A heavy thud followed. A giant beetle dropped down, its mandibles twitching like a living meat grinder. “Fuck…” Abel cursed. The creature was huge. As tall as Ryan if it stood upright. Ryan pulled a knife. Abel suddenly shoved one of the men into the beetle’s jaws. Bones snapped. Flesh sprayed. “Move!” Abel shouted, pushing Mike toward the ladder. Mike scrambled upward. The old ladder screeched under the weight of two bodies. Ryan fought the beetle below, buying time. Then Abel kicked Ryan’s fingers from the ladder. “What the hell—?!” Ryan shouted. “Quiet, idiot!” Abel hissed, kicking again. Ryan held on. “Fine,” Ryan laughed bitterly. “I’m taking you with me.” Abel slashed his fingers with the knife. Ryan fell. He landed on the beetle. The sound of crunching echoed. No one cared whether it was spine or shell. Abel climbed after Mike. Behind them the structure screamed. Metal shrieked. Concrete cracked. The ventilation node shifted sideways. The side air duct tore free and plunged down the shaft. “Move! Move!” Abel shouted. Mike looked up. The arch cracked. “That’s… it,” he whispered. Abel shoved him forward. He reached the hatch just as the arch collapsed. Silence followed. Metal screamed over two crushed bodies. In the communication room the phone from A-2 rang. No one answered.