Deep inside I felt Kat spin in anger and frustration. She'd been quiet through Walker's tirade but the last bit had struck an angry cord. Suddenly she erupted and I couldn’t hold her back.
“Listen child, with your mind as well as your ears! Think on what I say! I’ve suffered in ways you’ll never understand! Done things that can’t be undone or forgiven. I've been the monster the Game demanded. My entire life is a wasteland of fear and death, but through it all, I‘ve held close to my humanity, not lost it! I rule my Beast! Hundreds before me have fallen to it, but not me. Why do you think that is?”
“That's easy,” retorted Walker. “You only think you rule. The truth is, your Beast destroyed you a long time ago. There is no you, there is only IT!”
Oh God, I thought. Kat‘s going to take over and kill Walker. Then a strange thing happened. I felt all the anger drain away replaced by a vast, crushing sadness.
“I‘m sorry for you, Walker. Sorry you won’t survive what comes. Though you disbelieve, I was once like you. Empathy, compassion? Good things in peace but not in war. Those emotions won’t trouble Kailex for he feels none of them. I hope your death is quick but I suspect it won’t be. When he looks at you his eyes speak of larger plans where he‘ll be the cat and you the mouse.”
Suddenly the sky darkened, replaced from horizon to horizon by Meeta's face. “Still arguing?” She frowned down on us and shook her head. “For all your powers you act like children. Come to the bridge. There's something I wish you to see.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “We'll be right there!” I put all the command into those words that I had in me. Privately, I wondered if Walker would follow.
Chapter Eighteen
Meeta stood in front of a huge screen, the words “Trouble at BC Place” frozen in red block lettering beneath an aerial view of the stadium, distinctive with its white top against the blue of False Creek. It was a shot taken from a helicopter fly by. Meeta looked worried as she gestured for us to take a seat.
“What's up?”
I’d had to ask, though I already suspected the answer. It had been four days since the Springsteen concert and there hadn't been a single mention of the trouble I’d caused there in the news. Something like that would be hard to keep from the public. Very hard. Neville must have pulled a lot of strings to have the incident suppressed. All in the interest of public safety of course. Wouldn’t want anyone panicking because cities were being used as gaming arenas. Now it looked like the incident was finally out. Some things were inevitable.
“This is running on all the major networks and all over social media. It's being picked up and re-broadcast around the world.” Turning to the screen she ran the video. The shot from the helicopter came to life, breaking away to a reporter standing in front of BC Place. Ambulances, a lot of them, could be seen coming and going in the background. Crowds of people were milling about, some running, some being helped away, some crying, many looking stricken and dazed. The reporter was all business, dressed in a long black overcoat, with straight black hair curling slightly around her shoulders and dark, serious eyes staring straight into the camera, it felt like she was speaking directly to us.
“In a strange attack that so far remains unexplained by local and federal authorities seventy-eight people were hurt at BC Place on Saturday, some of them seriously. The attack itself was bizarre. In fact the entire event plays out like a scene from a Hollywood science fiction movie set. But we can assure you, it happened, and it was real. We thought it best to show you what happened and let you, our audience, make up your own minds. The video you’re about to see was taken in bits and pieces from a number of cell phones. We’ve spliced the footage together to create what we believe is a fair re-creation of what happened.”
A short clip ran. The video was remarkable clear, though choppy. In places it suddenly leapt ahead but generally kept true to the progression of events as they’d occurred. It showed me moving up the steps of the stadium, arms extended so that my fingers brushed against the crowd on either side. People staggered and fell in my wake, hands clutching their heads or extended to soften their fall. The video followed me to my altercation with the guards. I grimaced in sympathy as first one then the other was brutally incapacitated. The camera lost me momentarily as I picked up speed moving into the stadium amid cries of fear and surprise. All around me waves of people fell away, looking as if they'd been struck by some force, blood spilling from their noses and in some cases, their ears. Curses, as well as threats, blunt and to the point, could be heard from the various video bloggers, while I made my way until finally I moved through the exit doors back into the far side parking lot. Loud shouts of satisfaction suddenly hailed the flurry of activity that took me down. For a brief moment the camera locked on an image of Neville standing over my inert form. He looked up and again the image froze.
The screen came back to show the head and shoulders of the reporter. Every nuance of her face declared that this was serious business while the camera zoomed in for a close up. She explained that they'd had the video for days but had been under strict government orders not to release it. Freedom of the press had been curtailed by the government and she, for one, didn’t like it, and neither should we. Only the recent release of anonymous video on YouTube had freed them to report as they should have from the very start. Now she could tell us about the military intervention employed to deal with this singularly strange attack. Federal intervention she suspected but again wasn’t able to confirm. Probably the same authority who’d attempted to suppress the news and failed. Looking straight into the camera she soberly informed us that some things were just too big to hide behind orders of non-disclosure. All sorts of doors still remained closed however. She’d been unable to get any information on the commander who’d captured this mysterious attacker some were calling ‘a day walking vampire’. People were scared and there’d be all kinds of rumors. Discussion with doctors on the scene revealed little about the nature of the attack. Victims were extensively examined but no cause had been determined for their sudden disabilities had been suggested. Symptoms included bleeding from nose, ears and extreme fatigue accompanied by pounding headaches. So far there appeared to be no lasting effects and most had recovered quickly, with the security guards being the main exception. Several guards were still in the hospital, all stable if somewhat bruised.
At this point, the reporter paused and nodded at the camera which, on cue, replayed the video of me tossing the guards aside as if they had no weight at all. I grimaced. There was no way a normal human could have done that. The camera zoomed in close for another of her earnest looks. She appeared personally shaken.
“As you can see this man was inhumanly strong. He threw bigger men to the side like you or I might toss a toy. How was this possible? There are so many unanswered questions to this event that we can’t let it go. No human is that strong, so who is he, and more importantly, what is he? Who commanded his take down and why are they not talking to us now? We’re told to have faith in the people whose decisions affect our safety but how can we when it’s so blatantly obvious they’re hiding something big?” She shook her head, seemingly even more distressed. “We‘re left to wonder on our own, who is this man, if he is a man, and are there others like him out there walking among us right now? If so, how safe are we?” She nodded again toward the camera and a picture of me appeared on the screen and stayed there. “This is the one we need to identify. If you know him, call us. The number is on your screen. If you have any new information, call us. Local government forces claim ignorance of the entire event. We feel you have the right to know so we’ll continue to fight for that information. Because of the lack of information rumors are spreading. People we spoke with believe this may be related to the earthquake last week that killed hundreds and decimated the lower east side of Vancouver. Much like this event, that quake was also unnatural and unexplained by the authorities. If you know anything, contact us at the number flashing right now on your screen. We want
to speak to you. We need to speak to you. The public has a right to know what’s happening, and so do you!” she finished strongly.
The screen froze with the number prominently displayed at its center. Large caps just below the number indicated a reward was being offered for information leading directly to the identification of myself or the commander of the capture team.
“Okay, that's just great,” I said. “Now everyone is going to be on the lookout for me. I won't be able to show my face anywhere.”
“That's a long term worry,” replied Walker. “Short term we have to stop Kailex from killing us and foil his plans for world domination. If we’re able to get past that we can work on your future ability to walk down the street without being arrested.”
“You fear the local police?” chimed in Kat with disdain. “They’re too weak to hold you, besides they can‘t find you in SHIP. Save your worry for a more realistic enemy.”
I shook my head. “I don't fear the police. I just can't live here forever Kat. Someday I may want real food or just to take a walk in the park. When this is over, I'd kind of like my life back.”
“Your desires are irrelevant. Walker’s correct. We need to concentrate on Kailex. He should be our only concern.”
“This is one of many newscasts I intercepted,” interrupted Meeta. “I picked this one because it focused on you,” she nodded at me, “but there are others, even more troubling. The ones worrying me the most concern the sudden disappearance of people around the city. The numbers of missing are impressive and news outlets have caught on to this. I suspect Kailex is building his strength for the coming conflict. While he can't store latent energy forever, he can maintain a surplus through constant feeding. You should be prepared to face a stronger version of him than before.” She hesitated, then continued, “I feel it necessary to remind you. The strongest Hunters of legend could capture minds and bend them to their will. Kailex has already demonstrate some degree of mastery when he attacked you,” a nod to Walker. ”You need to be ready for that and more.”
“And more?” I did a double take. What more could there be? “He’s already attacked Walker from who knows how far away? What else might he be able to do?”
“Meeta refers to a Hunter legend from the end of days when the race was failing. In those times only the strongest still survived, hunting and being hunted by the rising race of normals. A few, it is claimed, developed the ability to bind weaker enemies to their will and take them for their own. It is said they fed until only a husk remained, still vital enough to do their bidding but with no real mind remaining. I did not mention this before because I thought it only legend. Now I believe differently. I think we have already seen it with Walker’s friends. They were turned by Kailex. Presumably, they found him and were defeated. In their defeat they were enslaved by him. Still living but mindless; the people they were, gone. If the legends are true, this may be why they attacked us.”
Thinking back, it suddenly made sense to me. When I'd fought them they'd been slower than they should have been. And clumsy. Not that I was complaining. Even with an edge in speed I'd barely survived our encounter. I half expected Walker to be angry but instead she nodded, and even seemed relieved by this new information.
“That explains a lot,” she said. “Except for Lisa, they were all my friends. They’d never have attacked me, not even under orders. I cared for them and they cared for me. For two years we were probed, tested and subjected to cutting edge gene and DNA splicing. We changed every day; lost something of ourselves every day until all we had was each other. And sometimes even that wasn’t enough. Having them try to kill me,” she swallowed, “was difficult to accept.” She paused thinking more about it before continuing, “Until now I couldn't understand why. I thought maybe they’d just given in. It can be so tiring; this constant fight for control. But we'd all fought that battle for years. It didn’t make sense that they’d give up now. Especially after what happened with Henry. After him we were even closer. For them to want to kill me?” She shook her head. “What you said explains it. You're right. He took them and destroyed them.” She slammed a fist into the wall. When she turned to face us her eyes were black. I stepped away, not wanting her Beast to feel threatened. “He has to be stopped,” she growled.
Kat moved within me, as though her thoughts were shifting along with her physical self, taking a new position. “You want to fight him but tell me feeding is out and killing only an option? If we don’t feed we will be weaker. If he survives, he may escape and come at us again for revenge. Would you give Kailex so much of an advantage?”
I could see Walker struggling with the thing inside her. It took her awhile but eventually she nodded. “Feeding is out.” She waved vaguely toward the outside of SHIP. “Those are real people out there. Not cattle, not prey. We haven’t the right to use them, not even if it strengthens us. As for killing Kailex, that must remain a last resort. We're not him.”
She turned to me breathing heavily. “We must never become like him.” Something in her eyes betrayed her. There was fear and uncertainty. When the time came, could she control herself? I knew the same fear, the same uncertainty so I understood the line she was drawing.
Kat laughed sourly. “I'm sure he will tremble when he see us, so righteous, so strengthened by our belief that we’re better than him. All right then. Let’s try it your way and fight as civilized beings. But first we must learn to fight together. Our merge requires more control and precision to be successful. I‘ve devised a practice exercise to help us work more as a team. Surely Walker, even you wouldn’t object to practice? Our enemies should not have all the advantages.”
There was a slickness in her words that made me wonder, but thirty minutes later we stood in a room not unlike the bunker where I’d been imprisoned. Stone walls surrounded us and there was only one visible door, the one we'd used to enter the room. A table sat in the center, several items on display obviously intended for our use. The room was unnecessarily cold but I assumed Kat was sending us a message. This was how she viewed the coming fight. Anger was fine as a weapon but it could lead to mistakes, better to be cold and emotionless. As she’d already indicated strongly, emotions led to hesitation, and that wasn’t good.
“Hard to practice if you're a frozen Popsicle,” muttered Walker.
“If a little cold breaks your concentration, what will Kailex do to you?” was Kat's dry response. “Concentrate on the table. Your ability to use the items there may determine whether you live or die.”
On the table in front of me was some weird clothing. First was a vest designed by a drugged-out rock star. If I put it on only the top half of my chest would be covered leaving my midriff vulnerable. It was cut in a slant that I supposed was in fashion somewhere, just not here. Tiny diamond shaped beads covered its entirety in layered waves. Next to it was a thick white belt that looked heavy. A large metal skull formed its buckle. A holster hung off it and my heart leapt thinking I was finally going to have a weapon. The bottom of the holster had tie downs for my thigh to keep it from bumping around as I moved. I opened the holster and was surprised to see it contained what looked like a lathi which was a thick iron-bound stick used for crowd control in India. It was black and looked heavy. It would definitely hurt if you hit someone with it. But if that someone had a gun this wouldn’t be all that helpful. Experimentally, I picked it up and twirled it in the air, surprised by its lightness. This brought a sharp intake of breath from Kat who was quietly observing and saying nothing. The more I swung the club, the easier it moved until I realized it was a blur of motion in front of me. Trails of light sparkled in the air behind it making for a really pretty pattern.
“It’s not a toy Nicholas. Put it down.”
I felt a strange reluctance to do as asked but I complied. Still it took an effort of will to let go of it. For some reason the weapon stuck in my hand, almost like it didn't want me to put it down; like it had a will of its own. I concentrated, gradually forcing my hand open so that
it fell back to the table with a ‘clunk’. I felt a vague sense of disconnect and disappointment roll through me. The weapon was made to hurt things. It didn’t want to be put away.
I felt Kat's approval. I’d done something right. “You held a katar. Touching it creates a mind link between it and you, improving your speed and accuracy. As you think of an action, it moves to implement it. Like SHIP the katar has a mind, but much more specialized, simpler. If you can learn to master it, you will have a weapon even Kailex will fear. There's one problem, however. Since it has a mind it also has a will. It feels its purpose strongly and since its purpose is to kill or injure you can see the problem. Over time it becomes more sensitive to its user and has a tendency to overwhelm. The link becomes stronger and its ability to influence greater. Some are not strong enough to wield it. Before long they are the tool and it is the katar wielding them. Pick it up again.”
Unfazed by this new information I reached for it eagerly, this time my fingers curled naturally around the handle at its center. As I gripped it a surge of energy rolled through me, waking my Beast which rushed to the surface fighting me for control! This time the katar hadn’t called to me but to my Beast! A link snapped into place among the three of us; Beast, Kat, and myself. Then the katar transformed! Jagged serrated metal teeth snapped out of both ends while the length expanded to six feet. Without conscious direction I began twirling it in a complex weave that cut the air in a thin whistle, while my feet flew in a pattern that came from Kat. Though I was still conscious and aware, it was her skill moving the weapon. My body followed her complicated dance in perfect harmony. Beside me, Walker pushed her back to the wall with the same awed look on her face I must have had on mine.
The God Hunters Page 28
