Harsh squawks sounded from above and shadows circled the rodent on the sand. He rose slightly and tensed. His bait had been spotted and he’d better be ready to leap.
Attracted by the offer of a free meal, several ravens swooped down and landed. Shiny, black, and competitive, they approached the small body as a mob, each taking a jab, each trying to grab it for himself. The group soon erupted into a squabble, beaks open, wings raised in anger, leaving the bait ignored and unguarded.
Another raven, larger than the rest, landed and stole the rodent while the others were distracted. He pressed it down with one dark, filthy talon as he commenced tearing it apart with his beak. The others stopped fighting when they noticed, then united against him. He stood his ground, screaming in indignation, still clutching his prize in one talon.
Dominic saw his chance. The raven had his back to him as he tried to fend off the others. He crouched, then leapt and bounded over to the ravens and swung his paw, nails bared, at the large raven defending its meal. The others scattered, but his target had been too distracted to see him coming. He held it down as he bit its neck to finish it off and partake of its blood.
18
Dex positioned himself at the end slot machine. Marco sat at the adjacent machine and pretended to be focused on gambling, just as Dex had instructed him. He absently pulled the handle once more as he took a quick look around the place and decided this had to be the dumpiest casino ever. Stale smoke clouded the air and stifled the light. Wear marks, stains, and cigarette burns masked what remained of the faded carpet pattern. The cocktail waitresses looked like grandmothers. Tired grandmothers.
But Dex was the brains of the outfit and if he’d thought it up, then it had to be the best plan. Even though they hadn’t been identified in the fiasco heist with trigger-happy Dominic, he’d decided it would be safer to operate at dumps like this on the opposite side of town, at least for now. The high rollers wouldn’t be as high as their usual clientele, but money was money.
Dex nudged him and motioned with his eyes toward a nearby blackjack table. Marco took the cue and looked. A heavyset, loud and clearly drunken man had won another hand and made no effort to hide his glee. He stood, scooped up his chips, and knocked over his stool in the process. Ignoring the fallen stool, he staggered toward the cashier’s window with his cache. Dex gave a small nod, stood, then casually led the way to the back door and out to the parking lot.
Marco followed him, a sudden queasiness blooming in his stomach. He’d always gotten nervous right before a heist, but the debacle last time had shaken his already fragile confidence. He tried hard to ignore his nerves as they waited for their mark in the shadows toward the back of the building.
The man wobbled out several minutes later, hitting his own ass with the door and nearly losing his balance. He stopped, mouth gaping, and looked around the parking area as if he were lost. Then he appeared to spot what he was looking for and tottered over to a battered old white pickup truck. When he fumbled in his pockets for his key, they made their move.
Marco and Dex dashed over and each grabbed one of his arms before he realized what was happening. He sputtered and struggled in an ineffectual attempt to fend them off, but his drunken clumsiness only made their job easier. When he tried to pull away, he fell to the pavement, stunning himself.
They closed in like the practiced predators they were, shoving him over onto his side to get at the pocket with the cash. Dex snatched it and they fled to the Durango before their victim could regain any semblance of composure.
Marco flung himself into the passenger seat, slammed the door, and hastily buckled himself in for a wild ride. Dex exited the parking lot at a restrained speed, then floored it and they sped off, a few hundred dollars richer.
How their mark had managed not to blow his winnings while in such a drunken state was beyond Marco. In fact, the guy’d actually yielded a decent wad of cash. Drunk as he was, there was no way he’d be able to identify them. Hell, he might not even remember the entire evening and assume he’d just lost his money gambling. Dex’s plan had come off without a hitch, and Marco felt like celebrating.
“Hey, why don’t we go get a drink before we head back?”
Dex rolled his shoulders as he considered the suggestion. “That sounds like a great idea.” He checked the rearview mirror. “I think we’re in the clear, and I could use a shot. Or two.”
Marco smiled. A few good shots sounded mighty good about now.
19
As darkness gathered, Dominic sat in the sand and admired his shrine. The skulls all glowed a soft green, casting the immediate area in a spectral light. Sometimes he thought he detected a slight pulsing of the glow, but he couldn’t be sure. All he knew is he had taken, and they had given. Now he had powers beyond what he could ever have dreamed—and he could do what he burned to do.
He stared at his newest addition: the small, but crucial, skull of the raven. The ability to hunt and kill had saved his life, but the ability to fly would do so much more.
Dominic took a deep breath to prepare himself for the task ahead. Darkness crowded the edges of his vision as a feeling of lightness flowed through him. He was becoming.
A short time later, he opened his eyes as if for the first time and examined his new body. Sleek black feathers encased him. He could hear them shift slightly against each other as he breathed. He spread his wings, leaving them stretched open for a moment before he tried them for the first time. He flapped, once, twice, and pushed off with his talons.
As he lifted up into the sky, light as air and dark as death, Dominic felt a freedom he’d never imagined. The desert sand loomed farther and farther below him as he rose ever higher. He glanced at the hills in the dim moonlight and turned toward the glow of lights that betrayed the town’s location, maneuvering his wings as if he’d flown all his life. He flew toward his destination with ease and grace as a deep contentment merged with rage like a powerful, delicious poison. He would do what he set out to do.
He glanced at the landscape below him, noticing with satisfaction how the density of lights gradually increased as he flew. He allowed himself to drop lower so he could see more detail. At the north end of town, he used familiar landmarks to guide his way as he descended to near the tops of the light poles. There was the street, and there was their dump of a house, its windows all dark. He slowed and landed on a light post right in front. And he waited, shifting from foot to foot, anxious to do what he’d come to do.
Soon headlights approached on the otherwise deserted street. His feathers tightened against his body when he recognized Dex’s Durango. It pulled up and the garage door began to open. He knew he needed to act quickly. Dominic waited for the garage door to fully open, then spread his wings and swooped inside as the Durango pulled in. He landed on its roof and bided his time as they got out.
Dex emerged first and went over to the door leading into the house. He pressed a button on the wall, and the garage door began to descend. Marco got out and followed Dex inside.
Dominic waited in raven form on top of the car until their voices receded deeper into the house. Then he flew down to the garage floor and returned to human form for the next stage of his plan. He went over and turned on the overhead light before the garage door opener light went out.
First he needed to arm himself, so he searched through the garage clutter for something suitable. Boxes lay scattered on the floor and on drooping shelves in no particular order. He looked through some of them. Most seemed to hold old clothes and junk of all sorts. Surely there was something here he could use.
He walked around the Durango to the other side of the garage and found scrap materials from some household repair project or other. In the corner lay a disorganized heap of PVC pipe, rolls of duct tape, plywood squares, and other items. He worked quickly but silently to sort through the stuff. The last thing he needed was one of them coming out to check on a noise and catching him at an unarmed disadvantage.
Then his finge
rs closed on something cold and hard. He pushed aside the crap that covered it and extracted a two-foot length of metal tubing, painted red. It looked like the extender that fits on a floor jack. It would do.
He stood and hefted the metal rod, feeling its weight in his hands, and slapping it lightly against one palm. It seemed of sufficient weight and length to do what he needed it to do.
Dominic started toward the door that led into the house.
20
“I love being a paramedic, but I don’t love how hard it is to get time off when I really want it.” Gail Grady tossed her packed duffel and sleeping bag onto the floor beside the front door of her apartment.
“It’ll get better when you have more seniority, though, right?” Annie Stanton much preferred her grad school schedule. She could come and go as she pleased as long as she turned in her assignments on time. In fact, she couldn’t quite imagine dealing with the working world, where she’d have to adhere to someone else’s idea of a schedule. Gail’s scheduling issues were monumental in comparison, and she didn’t know how her friend could stand it—no matter how much she enjoyed dallying in blood and guts.
Gail stepped into the open kitchen and emptied the dishwasher as she spoke. “It will. Just not for a while. Everybody in my squad has a lot more seniority that I do. Hey—thanks for staying behind and agreeing to drive out to the campsite with me. You could have been out there with the guys already if it weren’t for me.”
Annie fidgeted as she stood and watched her friend put away dishes as if they weren’t already running late. “Yeah, but I’m a little worried about the reports of animal attacks out that way in the last couple of months. No one should go out there alone. Besides, it’ll give us a chance to catch up a little on the way.”
Gail paused, skillet in hand. “I guess I have been pretty isolated lately with my crazy shifts. Life seemed a lot simpler when we were in undergrad together.”
“Well, it was simpler. C’mon, let’s get going. Paul and Evan will start wondering where we are. And it’s later than I wanted to get on the road. Now that it’s closing in on fall, the light doesn’t last so long.”
Gail checked her watch. “Oh, you’re right. I didn’t think it would take me that long to pack. Been so long since I’ve been camping, I had trouble deciding what to bring and what to leave.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’ll be a fun few days. I’ve been out there before with Paul. It’s nice. Isolated. Peaceful. I think you’ll like it.” She picked up Gail’s sleeping bag. “Here, I’ll take this. I already put everything else in your car.”
Gail grabbed her duffel and paused to lock her apartment door. “I hope so. I hope I packed everything I need.” She shook her head as she pocketed her keys. “I just have the feeling I’m forgetting something.”
21
Dominic pressed his ear to the door, held his breath, and listened. Faint voices came from inside, too muffled for him to understand. No matter. No way could they have any idea he was there. They had a real surprise coming to them, and he was anxious to deliver it.
The metal rod gripped tightly in his right hand, he quietly let himself in with his left hand. He stepped inside, gently closing the door behind him. Fortunately, they’d left the kitchen light on for him.
The kitchen looked about as he’d expected, given the pigs who lived here. Dirty dishes sat in teetering piles in the sink. Empty pizza boxes and beer cans littered about every horizontal surface. He padded through the kitchen with the deadly silent steps he’d perfected when in animal form.
Unnoticed, he peered into the main living area from the kitchen doorway. The light from the lopsided table lamp revealed the two of them sitting on the filthy couch together, watching TV. Torn, Dominic hesitated as he considered how best to proceed. On the one hand, he wanted them both to have to face him, to see they had failed to kill him and that he would not fail to kill them for what they had put him through. But there were two of them, and he only had the metal rod. One or both of them might have a gun. Might even have his gun.
His decision made, Dominic gripped the rod tightly in both hands and raised it up over his head. Then, taking long, silent animal strides, he approached the couch from behind and brought the rod down hard on Marco’s skull. The single blow shattered the top of his head, flinging blood, brain, and bone fragments in all directions.
His eyes bulging in shock, Dex leapt up off the couch and away from his partner. For one long moment, Dex’s eyes were drawn to Marco’s ruined skull and he didn’t see Dominic standing there, bloody metal rod raised high. When he noticed him, his eyes grew wider still and he held out his hands as if he could fend off Dominic’s rage and thirst for revenge.
“Wait! No!”
“Thought you’d never see me again, didn’t you?” Dominic’s voice came out low, like a growl.
Trembling, Dex could only sputter in response as tears ran down his face.
Dominic took another step forward and stood poised and ready to strike. “You left me to die. You fuckers were too cowardly to do the job right, and you left me to die in that desert.”
Dex suddenly jammed his right hand into his pants pocket. Dominic lunged forward and smashed the rod down on his forearm. With deep satisfaction, he felt and heard the bone snap beneath his blow.
Dex screamed and crumpled to the ground, holding his injured arm with his good hand, a fistful of bills falling from his now-useless right hand.
Dominic reached down and snatched up the money. A wad of twenties. “You think a few dollars would make up for what you did to me?” Before Dex could answer, he thumped him on the side of the head with the rod. He hoped it didn’t kill him.
22
Gail cursed herself for not getting on the road sooner. She didn’t mind night driving in the city—she knew the place, knew it inside and out, especially since becoming a paramedic. But when she was somewhere unfamiliar, especially out in the sticks like this, she hated driving in the dark and was prone to getting herself lost.
“Am I still on the right road?”
“You’re fine so far. This is the main road out, but soon we’ll have to start down lesser roads—more like trails out here—and be sure to make the right turns as we go.”
Gail sighed and relaxed her grip on the steering wheel. “Okay.” Right about now, she also wished she had enough money saved up to have traded in this old car for one with a nav system. She’d already gotten spoiled using the nav system in her paramedic rig. Good thing Annie had been out here before and knew the way.
“Turn here! Take a right here!”
Gail jammed on the brakes and cranked her Camry into a hard right. She clutched the wheel in a death grip as the car fishtailed and shimmied. Then she stopped right in the middle of the now-dirt road. In the glare of her headlights stood several road signs with meaningless trail numbers, demanding that she choose between them, yet providing precious little information.
“Which way?”
“Uh…let me think.”
“Let you think? I thought you knew where we were going.” Gail realized the only source of light was the car itself. She shivered as she felt an almost physical pressure from the darkness surrounding them. The city may be harsh, but at least it was lit.
“Well, usually Paul drives and I’m reading or something. I think it’s the one to the left.”
“Can you call him and check?” Gail gripped her upper arms and held her foot hard upon the brake pedal as she glanced around, not knowing what she was looking for.
“I think we’re out of reception by now.” Annie took out her cell and checked it. “Yep. No reception.”
“Shit. Well, I hope this is the right way.” Gail cranked the wheel and took the left branch in the road. The crunch of loose gravel beneath her tires had to be the loneliest sound in the world.
23
Dominic stopped the Durango several yards past his shrine of glowing skulls. He got out and left the door open so he’d have some light to work by.
When in human form, he couldn’t see in the dark nearly as well as he could when he shapeshifted. He went around to the back, opened up the lift gate, and turned on the overhead light.
He first grabbed the ankles of Marco’s corpse, which lay belly-up in the back of the Durango with its ruined skull wrapped in a towel sealed with duct tape. With a few strong tugs, he extracted the body and let it flop onto the ground. The towel came loose on impact and bloody pieces of skull and brain spilled onto the trail dirt. No matter now—in fact, Dominic took no small amount of satisfaction at the sight. He grabbed Marco by the ankles again and hauled him out of the way and into the loose sand at the edge of the trail.
Then he reached inside and grabbed Dex’s ankles. This would prove more challenging, since Dex had survived—at least so far. Dominic glanced at him in the dim overhead light. Duct tape bound his wrists and ankles and covered his mouth. His right forearm had a bend in it like an extra elbow. Right now, he was unconscious. But that wouldn’t last much longer.
Dominic braced himself and gave a mighty tug, pulling Dex about halfway out in a single move. His upper body in the truck bed and his lower body dangling, Dex awoke to the pain of having his back bent at a sharp angle. He struggled to adjust his position, but couldn’t because of the duct tape binding him. He could only grunt and plead with his eyes.
Spurred by Dex’s pain, Dominic gave another vicious tug, and Dex landed on his back with a louder muffled grunt. Dominic dragged him over next to Marco, shut the back door of the Durango, and then stood over them.
“So what do you think I should do now?” He glared at Dex’s bulging, frightened eyes in the weak light from the Durango’s front cab. “Do you think you deserve the least bit of mercy after what you did to me?”
Skinshift Page 4
