Fight The Peace

by S T Branton

“What the…” Bentham muttered.

  “See?” I shouted.

  A loud whirring sound seemed to shake the building, and instead of blinking off, the light behind my eyelids only grew brighter. The electricity was trying to come back on, but it was flickering. I yanked off the glasses and looked across the room while squinting to get used to the sudden brightness. Against the wall, Cabot advanced on the Shapeshifter until she was right next to her, and suddenly, swung her fist and rammed it into the creature’s jaw.

  The Shapeshifter fell to a knee but then turned back, seeming to unhinge its jaw and hiss like a reptilian monster. She had her knife in hand again, and there was no doubt how she intended to use it.

  “Let me go now, Slick,” Bentham shouted from below me.

  Against every instinct I had, I rolled away and let Bentham scramble to her feet. The lights flashed off and when they came back on again, Bentham was on her knees, her palms facing out as she prepared to use magic.

  Several sudden, concussive rounds of magical shot filled the air, sounding for all the world like a revolver, and the chaos in the room quelled. Initial screams gave way to everyone ducking and dropping to the floor. The lights flashed off again as soon as the blasts ripped through the air, and seemed to be off for hours, but must have merely been seconds. When they returned once more, the real Cabot was still standing in her place and Bentham was still on her knees. But the Shapeshifter was gone.

  “Slick,” I heard whispered behind me. I turned to see Archie. He pointed at a door to his side.

  I nodded and looked back at Bentham, who was wildly looking around for the Shapeshifter. For the moment, she seemed to have forgotten me. I had to take my chances while I could and get out of here and try to find where the shifter went.

  Turning and ducking so I could blend into the crowd of people now rising from their crouched positions on the floor, I made my way to the door and exited, putting as much distance between me and the agents as possible.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  As I ran out of the room, the sound of the pandemonium behind me was nearly deafening. Wherever the shifter had gone, it was likely the hell out of that room, and I needed to find it. The problem was, it could look like anyone, and this building was full of generic-looking glad-handers who smiled fake smiles and laughed too loudly at bad jokes. It was a Shapeshifter’s paradise.

  I bolted down the hall, then skidded to a stop at a fire exit. It seemed likely they would take off this way to get a floor of separation between us, so I dove through it and took the steps as quickly as possible. A sound like a door shutting below me told me I was on the right path, and I wished like hell for a railing I could slide down like when I was a kid. At the bottom of the steps was another door. I yanked it open and stopped to catch my breath at what I saw.

  It was a lobby full of confused, scared diplomats and their pages. Everyone clustered in groups near the exit and milled around in a directionless shuffle that seemed simultaneously panicked and locked in indecision. The shifter could be any of them. Or none of them.

  Shit.

  I tore into the room and grabbed random people as I went, yanking them toward me and looking deeply into their eyes. There was something I was looking for, but I couldn’t verbalize it if I wanted to. There was something off about the eyes of the fake Cabot, and I was sure I could recognize it if I saw it again. But person after person turned in surprise to me, their eyes a mixture of shock and fear, and none of them felt like the shifter.

  A scream rippled through the air near the back of the large lobby, closely followed by a loud bark. I snapped toward the sound and saw several people falling over, knocked over by something barreling through them. That could only be one thing—Dog, and he was on the scent! An old man and his wife hit the deck in a way that made me think they were looking more for a chance to file a lawsuit than anything else, and I ran in their direction.

  “I’m coming,” I shouted as I headed toward the commotion. A few security guards, still unsure of what exactly was happening, moved to step in front of me. I thought fast and pulled out my small billfold, where I kept the pre-paid credit card Ally slipped me a while ago so I could buy things without her, and flashed it toward them. “FBI! Move!”

  One guard looked at the other and shrugged. Both stepped aside in time to clear room for me to leap over the fallen old man and his wife. As I soared over them, the old man and I locked eyes.

  “Hey,” I said casually as I passed over his face. My feet hit the floor, and I pounded toward another group of people who seemed like something already tore through the center of them. “Which way did the dog go?” I yelled as I approached them. As one, they pointed down a hallway, and I skidded to a halt so I could head that way.

  I was most of the way down the hall and nearing a turn deeper into the maze of conference rooms and offices when a prickling feeling went up my spine and the hair on my arms stood on end. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. A decade of survival in The Deep tugged at my instincts. I steeled myself as I rounded the corner, not knowing what I was heading into, but knowing it likely involved a fight.

  As soon as I turned the corner, two lumbering vampires leapt out at me. One was so slow he missed me and rammed himself into the wall of the narrow hallway. The other caught me by the arm, enough that I went with his momentum and shoved him face-first into a large wooden door. Almost instantaneously as he crashed into the door, I shoved my elbow into his jaw, crushing it between me and the wood. A loud pop came from his mouth, and I knew I broke it.

  “A vampire that can’t chomp. That’s gotta suck.”

  I rammed my knee into his gut and doubled him over before I turned to face the other one. He was upright and shaking his head from the impact with the wall. I spun into a kick that landed hard on his chest and sent him flying into one of those crappy generic paintings that always seemed to line the halls in places like this. The painting fell and the wooden frame split into pieces. While eyeing the broken shards, I saw my chance to end this fight quickly.

  I snatched up one of the sharper pieces and twirled it in my hands as I waited for the vampire to stand and get in the right position. As soon as he was upright while baring his teeth and growling, I thrust forward, pierced him in the heart, and drove him back into the wall. The wood went all the way through his body and nailed him upright against the fading wallpaper.

  I turned back to the other vampire, snatched another shard and eyed him closely. He seemed to be reaching for the door handle. I readied myself to charge him before he could get through.

  “Going to run, big fella? Good, I have better things to—” I began.

  My words stopped in my throat as he opened the door and it slowly swung inward. Before it was halfway open, I saw that I was in a fair amount of trouble. At least a dozen other vampires, all weak ones like these two, were waiting to come through. What they lacked in brains or fighting skill, it seemed they planned to make up for it in sheer numbers.

  “Oh, well, that makes it more difficult. Maybe we can do this some other time.” I turned to run and stopped again.

  More were behind me and blocked the direction of the exit door I was sure the shifter went through. I was looking at a fight with over twenty of these guys. I drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as I looked from one group of vampires to the other while flipping the makeshift stake in my hand.

  I can’t fight them all. Well, I mean, I could fight them all, but it would take forever, and I don’t have the time. I have to find some way to get past them instead. But how?

  A sudden burst of light from behind the large group in the hallway grabbed my attention. It swirled in the air, and seconds later, the vampires turned in surprise and anger. A fight had broken out, and something was attacking them from behind. Someone. I glimpsed an axe, and my heart jumped. Pip bounded toward me on her tiny legs from the center of the crowd while swinging her axe in large circles and clipping several of the vampires on her way to me.

 
“Pip! How did you find me?” I exclaimed.

  “Followed the trail of destruction. Seems to be your thing.” She shrugged.

  I shook my head and turned my attention to the open door where the vampires inside had yet to move and were now turning their attention toward Pip.

  “Pip? Remember that move I showed you?”

  “The one with the spinny-swingy thing and the big boom?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “Yes.” She nodded enthusiastically.

  “Do you think you could run into that room and do that move on these guys while I get through the other ones to keep chasing the shifter?” I encouraged.

  “Oh, yeah,” she agreed.

  “You sure?” I asked.

  Pip set the axe down and spat into her hands, rubbed them together, then picked up the weapon. It was taller than she was, and when she rested it on her shoulder, she had to take a step or two backward to stay upright.

  “I got this,” she confirmed without hesitation.

  “Pip, you’re awesome. Now go get ‘em!” I cheered.

  Without missing a beat, Pip let out a massive war cry for such a tiny person and charged into the room. The vampires surrounded her, as expected, and she rushed into the middle of them before spinning in place with the axe. I didn’t need to watch what happened next. It would be messy.

  I turned and faced the remaining vampires not nursing wounds in the hall. Somewhere beyond them was Dog, and whatever he was chasing. It had to be the shifter. And I would catch it.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  I rushed through the vampires at the end of the hall and kicked the one who had regained his footing so he went back down, hard, then continued through the building. Another emergency staircase was behind the only door beyond this point, and I yanked it open before any of the vampires could chase me.

  Another bark from above told me I was on the right track, and I raced up the stairs. As I climbed ever higher, more barks alerted me that rather than going for the street level, the shifter must have headed for the roof. Maybe they had a helicopter or something up there.

  I finally reached the roof access, burst through the door, and stopped in my tracks in confusion. Dog stood there growling, his teeth bared and his hair on end. The person he was growling at was Ally, who had her palms out toward him as she slowly backed up. Her eyes opened wide with relief when she saw me.

  “Sara! Thank God! Dog has gone nuts. Something is wrong with him. Is it possible it’s the shifter?” she asked.

  The thought briefly ran through my mind that perhaps I had been chasing the shifter all along, but then my brain doubled back to something she said.

  Did she call me Sara?

  I stalked up to them, went between them, and looked down at Dog. He hadn’t moved and was still growling, and it was louder and more pronounced than it had been when I first got on the roof. I knew that growl. I turned to look at Ally, and a white-hot sear of anger brushed over me, and my scalp felt like pins and needles. I hated this.

  “Sara, help me.” I did, by shoving my fist right into her nose. “What the hell?” she exclaimed as she stumbled backward.

  “You aren’t Ally,” I spat.

  “The hell? Sara, look at me! I’m your best friend!” Her eyes were wide and imploring, but she wasn’t fooling me.

  Dog growled behind me, and I steeled myself. It sure looked like Ally. It sounded like her, too. There was a part of me that wanted to go to her, help her up, and apologize. But my anger overrode that part. I hated that someone would use her face, my best friend’s face, to trick me. And that forever, I would have to remember punching her face because they did it.

  “You made a mistake, stupid. You called me Sara. Ally doesn’t call me Sara. Ally calls me Slick,” I told her.

  I stepped forward, ready to shove my fist through what looked like my best friend’s teeth. Then it morphed, and the skin stretched around bones that moved around like bugs underneath. I struggled to keep looking at it, but maintained my position.

  The creature stood. It was taller now, and the clothes had changed, meaning even the outfit was part of the Shapeshifter’s glamour. I recognized those clothes. My heart caught in my throat as the shifter stared at me through eyes I hadn’t seen in so long.

  “I call you Sara, don’t I?” My father’s voice came from mere feet in front of me. Part of me wanted to run up and embrace him, to wrap my arms around him and smell his cologne. To forget, for a few precious seconds, that it wasn’t real.

  “You son of a bitch,” I forced out as tears welled up in my eyes. “Don’t you dare use his image.”

  The shifter laughed and charged. I fell back a step, fighting with myself to put up my arms to defend against the vision of my father attacking me. It was so surreal, so mind-bending. So wrong. Its movements were faster than I anticipated, and my arms seemed too slow to block the fists coming at me.

  Each one narrowly missed my face and instead glanced off my cheek or landed hard on my shoulder. I stopped moving backward and thrust forward, smashing my head into its chest, but it barely stepped back at all. Instead, it used the position of my head to land an uppercut that sent me flying backward.

  Dog leapt at the shifter, who shrugged him off and smashed his body into the side of an exhaust fan. I was still recovering, so it took the time to turn and land a rib-cracking kick on Dog’s side. That snapped me out of my funk and I focused hard on the creature, refusing to let its resemblance to my father confuse me anymore.

  I ran hard at the shifter, tackled it in the chest and pushed it back toward the edge of the building. Scaffolding stopped us from going over and down to the street, and heavy hands crushed down into my back, forcing me to let go. As I stood, I saw the body morph again, first ranging back through Ally and Cabot, then a flash of Archie before something far more hideous. Its true form was finally being set free, and I recoiled at the sight of it.

  Its skin was like a slick wooden varnish on a rocking chair, brown with long streaks of black, with spotted areas that seemed slicker than others. Pus and ooze drizzled from those areas, and the pus formed into shapes seemingly at random. The secret of its shifting had something to do with that gunk, and it covered the shifter’s entire body in a slimy, shiny glaze.

  Its head looked like it was a large, upside-down letter “V” with a huge bulbous nose coming out of the center. Wide, deep-set, yellow eyes stared back at me, a small black pupil in each tracking my movements. Its ribcage was visible, and it shifted and moved with the creature’s breathing, while long talons on its feet and hands clenched like pincers on a lobster. With what seemed like a waterfall of the yellow ooze suddenly springing from every pore, the body shifted in appearance again, this time settling on a mirror image of me.

  I gasped in horror, but the sound cut off as a hand that looked so much like mine reached out, grabbed me by the throat, and tossed me over the edge of the scaffolding. I reached out and snagged a bar right below the level my doppelganger stood on to keep from tumbling to the ground below. My pocket practically vibrated as Splinter shook in fear. I made a note not to reach in that pocket anytime soon unless I wanted a handful of vomit to throw at someone.

  “Getting beat up by Daddy was too much for your brain, wasn’t it, Slick?” the shifter said in my voice, sending a chill down my spine as my feet dangled high above the ground below. “It’s nothing compared to what I’ll do next. As soon as I’ve dealt with you, I’ll find Father Dearest while looking like this. Like you. And we’ll have such a tearful reunion. So many smiles. Then, right in front of your siblings, I’ll rip his heart out of his chest and force them to watch.”

  High-pitched laughter split the air, and the version of my head above me threw itself back to fully enjoy the experience.

  “How do you know all this?” I yelled while trying to kick my feet up to wrap them around something more stable. If I could keep this thing talking, I might find a way to climb up. “How do you know about my family?”


  “My boss knows everything about you,” the shifter sneered. Then the face morphed again. When it stopped, my grip slipped in surprise, and I nearly tumbled to my death in realization. The face was one I recognized.

  “Solon?”

  A face looked down on me that I longed to see every time I fought for my life. Solon’s eyes looked down, and his mouth curled into a sinister smile.

  “Time to die, Slick,” a voice I hadn’t heard in so long said, and its hand reached down to grasp my fingers.

  The rustling in my pocket became more active, and suddenly, a brown blur ran up my chest and jumped onto the face of the shifter wearing Solon’s face. Splinter defied his fear of heights and dove into action, trailing a thin line of puke as he did. The combination of a large rat-like thing biting his nose and the stomach-turning smell of Splinter vomit on his chest was enough to distract the shifter for a second.

  I took an extreme risk and swung my body like an Olympian on the rings until my momentum brought me back up again. I kicked out hard at the uneven scaffolding, and the shifter lost its balance, then tumbled forward and over the railing. A hand clasped my ankle, and I looked down into Solon’s face as I hung by my arms.

  “Slick, please help me!” The voice pleaded, sending a chill along my spine.

  Splinter ran up the shifter’s arm and clawed his hand as he switched from him to me, then settled on my shoulder. He twittered a sound somewhere between relief and anger, and it helped shake me from the instant pang of empathy I felt toward Solon’s face below me.

  “You failed, dickweed. Ever wondered what it feels like to fly?”

  I kicked hard, smashing into the fingers, and the body fell. But instead of falling to the street below, the body hit the railing below us and somehow fell onto the platform. It didn’t move. I was pretty sure its back was either broken or severely hurt, and if I tried jumping straight down onto the platform, I might suffer the same fate. I shimmied my way under the platform bar and onto the platform itself.