by Mark Ayre
Mercury turned to the quaking man with two blades in his hands and two grenades in his pocket. She smiled.
“You ready?”
“No,” he said.
“Me neither. Let’s do it.”
“I’m buzzing,” said Amira. “Let’s go.”
She turned, pushed through the door, rushed into the hall, and began racing up the stairs.
With no means of contacting the emergency services from where she sat, Sam had two choices. Either she could leave Benny where he was and race from the building in search of someone who could call an ambulance; or, attempt to help Benny down the stairs, out of the building, into the street, and to someone who could both phone an ambulance and help Sam keep Benny alive while they waited.
Leaving Benny was the last thing Sam wanted to do. His skin pale, his body trembling, the floor covered in blood: he needed her by his side. She knew, if she was to keep him alive, leaving him was her only real choice. Even if she could help him down the stairs—doubtful—she could not at the same time keep pressure on his wounds. In moving him from this floor to the ground level, she would encourage a far faster flow of blood than if she left him lying on the hard floor. If she tried to take her brother with her, before they reached the street, Benny would be dead.
“I have to go,” she whispered. “I have to get help.”
His hand rested in hers. Despite his weakening state, he somehow found the strength to shake his head and squeeze her palm. His eyes widened. She was not sure she’d ever seen such fear in her protector’s face.
He opened his mouth. Speech was beyond him.
“I have to,” Sam said. “It’s your only chance.”
Again, he shook his head. He didn’t want her to go, and Sam had never wanted to defy his wishes. But he was dying. Wasn’t thinking straight. For once, she had to play protector, to do what was right even if it meant disobeying his commands. For once, she would save him.
Tears in her eyes, she pulled her hand from his. Though he tried to hold her with him, he hadn’t the strength to stop her standing and stepping back. He shook his head but could not speak nor stand.
“I’ll be back,” she said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Because looking at his dying face was breaking her heart, she rushed to the door, promising herself she wouldn’t look back.
When she arrived, before she slipped into the hall, she looked back. In her mind swam images of her parents walking out while she scoffed bacon at the kitchen table. They’d told they loved her; she hadn’t said it back.
“I love you, Benny,” she said.
He didn’t say it back.
If he died without her by his side, she would never forgive herself.
If she waited another ten seconds, she wouldn’t be able to go.
“I love you,” she said again.
Then she ran.
Because the building was under construction, the lifts were not yet in operation. The trio would need all their energy and strength to fight Heidi and her minions. It was a shame, then, that their charge into battle involved running up what appeared to be endless flights of stairs.
Amira had always kept herself in good shape. Before she had turned her attention to heroics, back when she was still no more than an investigative journalist, she had spent several hours a week on fitness and endurance. Mercury had been almost as fit as Amira anyway, and the residual energy and power left when they had ripped Heidi from her soul boosted her fitness levels to those of which an Olympic Gold Medalist would be jealous.
Trey was slim. Having spent little time in the gym and never having shared his body with a powerful being from another dimension, he found himself panting after a single flight of stairs. After two, Mercury was out of sight; after three, so was Amira.
He never quit, nor took a second to catch his breath, although part of him hoped Amira and Mercury would have dispatched of the enemy by the time he finally reached the top.
At last, he arrived at the peak of the stairs. Double doors led into the open plan final floor, where little to no construction had gone on. Through the narrow glass pane, Trey could see nothing but the black dust the ritual spat out as it tried to bring forth its master.
They were here. They weren’t too late. Once again, Heidi would fail. This time, she would die.
Though his heart felt as though it might explode; though his lungs were on the verge of collapse; though he saw spots, Trey did not hesitate as he reached the top level. Raising his blades, he turned his back to the doors and shoved them open.
Spinning, he charged into the dust, and the final fight.
As though Titus had risen from the dead and was chasing Sam, anxious to follow through with Beauty’s rape threat, Sam burst from the building and into the street. At the pavement’s edge, she paused, then dived without looking into the road, rushing to greet a couple who stood staring at the sky.
“Sir, excuse me, sir, can I borrow you phone? It’s my brother. My brother’s been hurt, I need to call an ambulance.”
At first, the man seemed not to notice Sam or hear her calls. Half way through her plea, he turned from the sky to meet her eye. His own widened.
“Girl, you’re not wearing any clothes.”
This wasn’t true. She was in her underwear. Still, had this been any other occasion she would have turned lobster red and fled. Today, the words barely registered.
“My brother’s been hurt. I need to borrow your phone.”
“Uh, sure.”
While he fished in his pocket, the man’s partner glanced from the sky to Sam, then back. For the first time, Sam realised darkness draped the streets though it was closer to midday than midnight. Turning to the sky, she saw swirling, unnatural clouds of black dust in the sky. Unnerved, a shiver ran along her spine.
“Here you go, pet.”
The man handed her the phone. Sam began dialling 999.
A crack like thunder tore through the sky. The dust clouds, previously settled, calm, now whipped into a frenzy. As Sam put the phone to her ear, the sky seemed to roar as the black dust was sucked towards a central point and pulled towards a building top maybe a mile away.
Seconds after the crack, the sky was clear, the sun beaming upon the world. Day whipped back the shroud of night and pumped the streets with warmth.
As Sam began talking to the operator at the end of the 999 line, the man whose phone she held turned to his partner.
“There you are, see. It wasn’t the apocalypse after all.”
Stepping onto the top floor, Mercury could at first see nothing. This high, no internal walls had been installed, only pillars which kept the roof from falling in. There were no windows and therefore nothing to stop cold winds and black dust from swooping in and taking command of the highest level of the soon to be office block.
There was no access to the roof. Heidi would want to be high but would not trouble herself trying to reach the top. Somewhere on this floor, it was going down. Mercury had seconds to save the world.
But she could see nothing. The black dust was everywhere. It rushed and roared and tugged at her. When they had stopped Heidi’s previous attempt to raise her master, they had stepped into a black whirlwind just like this. Then, they had been able to see. This time, it was different.
She had her shotgun. She span, moved, hoping to find someone to attack; worrying she might put a bullet in Amira or wander off the building’s edge, into oblivion. She moved as fast as she could while taking care with each step, checking for solid ground rather than thin air.
How long did they have left?
As though in answer, a crack rent through the sky, so loud Mercury dropped to her knees and was sure she would look up to see a portal had opened into hell.
Instead, the rushing picked up. A single, central point, dragged all the dust towards it—the ritual’s epicentre. Mercury knew what that meant. They were too late.
Shoving the shotgun under one arm, she withdrew the monster killing
blade and held it aloft. In the moments after the ritual was complete, her enemy would be disoriented. Any infected involved in the rising would be dead. Heidi would be left with at most two or three followers. And her master.
Mercury would have one chance to strike. The temptation would be to attack Heidi. She would resist. Destroying the most powerful being on Earth was Mercury’s priority. Heidi could wait.
An invisible vortex sucked in the black dust. Mercury followed as it was tugged from around her body, expecting it to lead her to the top floor’s centre. She began to run as the black dust slipped away, as she was left in open ground, as the vortex pulled it on and on and—
Mercury screamed, threw herself to the ground in a desperate attempt to break. She slipped, slid, cracked her back against the hard floor.
Her legs dangled over the building’s edge; her centre of gravity remained by an inch on the right side of the fall. The shotgun slid from her grasp, span, and almost went over.
As she lay breathing heavily on the precipice of disaster, Mercury heard footsteps. She expected Amira. Didn’t look. Even if it was the enemy, she was in no position to rise, to attack.
Whoever it was stopped behind Mercury and looked across to the roof of the next office block along; that one complete, and five or six floors smaller than the one they had just ascended.
“If she couldn’t kill us, she wanted us to watch.”
The voice revealed the person as Amira. Knowing as much gave Mercury strength. Rolling over, pulling herself up, she grabbed her shotgun. Looking back, she saw Trey in the centre of the floor, staring at the women.
“What happened?” he asked.
Mercury looked back to the office block next door, to where the dust had been drawn. Standing on the roof were two women. One of them, Heidi, was waving. Her face lit with a beaming grin.
The woman at Heidi’s side stared at Mercury and Amira.
Trey arrived at the edge.
“What—“ he started.
“They tricked us,” said Amira. “Heidi completed her ritual, and there stands her master.”
Mercury sighed.
“Basically,” she said. “It’s game over.”
Twenty-Six
Amira said, “It’s not game over. Not as long as there’s breath in our bodies and, uh, blades in our hands.”
“Inspiring,” said Mercury.
“There’s no time for inspiration, and I don’t have a speechwriter,” said Amira. “We need to hit the ground floor first. We’ve got to be ready when they leave that building.”
Amira was right. They weren’t done. Although they had hoped and wished they could stop and kill Heidi before they reached this point, they knew failure was a possibility. There was always the scenario they would have to fight. While their chances of success were now far slimmer, it was not game over. Quite.
“Okay,” said Mercury, turning to the building next door. It was several floors lower than was the building atop which Mercury, Amira and Trey stood. Their opponents were faster and had far greater endurance. Still, maybe Heidi and the boss would be sporting. Give them a head start.
Heidi spun, opened the access door and rushed down the steps, off of the roof.
Heidi’s master jumped.
Mercury had been turning. Though she knew they couldn’t beat Heidi to the ground, they had to try. It took a second to process what Heidi’s master had done. When she span back, it was almost too late.
“Shoot her,” shouted Amira.
Mercury raised her shotgun. Then the monster arrived.
Mercury pulled the trigger.
The monster took the bullet to the chest without wincing, grabbed the barrel of the shotgun, and wrenched it from Mercury’s hands, possibly breaking a finger in the process.
In pain, Mercury staggered a step back, then raised her knife and charged.
Amira emptied her pistol into the monster’s face, chest and throat. Trey swung with two blades.
The bullets might have been feathers. Having reacted to their arrival not at all, the monster easily dodged Mercury and Trey’s blows, before grabbing Mercury, tossing her into the ceiling, and spinning to catch Trey’s wrists before he could plunge his blades into her heart.
“Not quite,” said the monster, and spun Trey like a baseball bat into Amira.
Amira went tumbling as Mercury hit the ground. The monster hadn’t released Trey. With lightning speed, she moved her grip from his wrists to his shirt, hauling him into the air, holding him above her head, staring into his eyes.
“You fear you’re a coward,” she said; her voice soft, soothing. There was no hint of the monster which lay beneath the woman’s skin. “Know this, Trey. Today, you have proven you possess the heart and stomach of a hero.”
Like a loving spouse, she smiled at Trey. Then threw him from the building.
Mercury cried out, but Trey was gone. In a few seconds, the pavement would meet and pulverise his body. Before then, the battle against Heidi’s master might well be over.
Shock delayed Mercury. Amira had no such problem. She came again, swiping with a blade at the beast, moving with as much speed as she could muster.
The monster dodged every blow. Each strike Amira seemed to miss by less than an inch. Mercury knew it could have been a metre. The monster kept close on purpose, toying with her prey, knowing nothing destroyed a person faster than hope.
Furious at the arrogance, and the monstrosity of what had happened to Trey, Mercury charged. The monster smacked the blade from Amira’s hand, then kicked Mercury in the face.
The boot might have been a train. One second it was meeting Mercury’s jaw, the next, Mercury was ten metres away and still travelling, rolling, tumbling over the yet-to-be-carpeted floor.
Her head spun, throbbed; her neck ached, her back strained. By the time she found the strength to rise to her knees, Amira’s blade was gone, the monster’s hand around Mercury’s friend’s throat; restricting breath, preventing speech.
The monster looked to Mercury. Smiled.
“My kind don’t have names. What should I call myself?”
Driven by pain, anger, fear for her friend, Mercury said the first word that came to mind.
The monster tutted. “As I understand it, that’s a pretty emotionally charged word here on Earth. I worry it might get me off on the wrong foot with future new friends. No, let’s keep thinking.”
Mercury stood. Her body roared in protest, and what was the point anyway. What was her plan?
“I’m in a woman’s body, right?” said the monster. “It should be a powerful woman. Historically speaking, the men on this planet have been pretty good at preventing those from arising, huh? Kinda limited options.”
Somehow, despite how fast and hard she had travelled across the building, Mercury still held the knife. She clutched the hilt in her hand until it creaked under the extra strength Heidi had bestowed upon her. A little extra strength, a little extra speed. Nowhere near enough.
“How about Cleo?” said the monster. “Short for Cleopatra. She was powerful, and it’s a nicer name than is Margaret. What do you think?”
Mercury was trying to think of a way to destroy the newly named Cleo. The monster rolled her eyes when Mercury failed to answer. She glanced at Amira, who had lost all strength to struggle, then back to Mercury.
“Given how you reacted to Trey’s fall, I suppose this might break you.”
Smiling, Cleo held Amira over the building’s edge. Amira’s face had darkened from the strangulation; she looked on the verge of passing out.
Mercury had been thinking of ways she might kill Cleo. She had been praying she might stay strong.
Then she saw Amira’s feet dangle off the edge.
“No,” she said. “Don’t kill her.”
It was pointless. One does not bargain with a monster, nor are there any morals to which you might appeal. Had Mercury been the richest woman on Earth, no amount of money would have convinced Cleo to save Amira. Mercury coul
d not beat this thing into submission. They’d already tussled, three on one. The fight had been pitifully short and had made Mercury realise they’d never had a chance. Not once Heidi completed the ritual.
“Don’t kill her?” The monster repeated. “Is that what you said?”
Mercury remained where she was. She did not attack. The blade remained in her hand, but the hilt was loose in her grasp. A strong breeze might knock it free.
“Speak now, or I let go,” said the monster.
Mercury was almost 100% sure Amira would die whatever she said. Even so, she had to speak.
“Yes,” she said. “Please don’t kill her.”
“Right you are.”
Cleo retreated from the edge, pulling Amira’s feet from the drop, but did not let Mercury’s friend go. Holding her high, Cleo stared into Amira’s face as she had Trey’s, though Amira was no longer aware anyone was there. Unconsciousness seemed to have gripped her.
“Human rituals, to call my kind, are so messy, so imprecise,” Cleo said. “Because my power dwarfs that of any other of my kind, I am easy to locate. Most rituals are random. The humans who make use of them know not who they will summon. On the other side, whoever the ritual picks is as surprised to be taken.”
Smiling, this time she did not turn from her prey. As Cleo looked at Amira, Mercury remembered something Heidi had said. A unique power of her master.
“Whoever I need, I can find,” said the monster. “My most loyal lieutenant, for example, who needs a home on this planet—I think Amira will suffice, don’t you?”
Mercury charged, blade out, knowing she would surely die.
Without releasing Amira, Cleo pivoted, dipped and slammed her shoulder into Mercury.
This time, the knife was lost. When Mercury regained her balance, stopped seeing stars, she turned to see the monster still holding Amira aloft, still staring into Mercury’s best friend’s face.
“There you are,” she whispered.
Amira opened her eyes, raised her hands, shoved them into Cleo’s face.
