by E A Comiskey
She backed to the far corner of the cage, took cover again, and he shot the lock at point-blank range. The iron mechanism dropped to the floor.
“You did it!” she whooped.
“You’re still surprised at my success,” he pointed out.
“Not surprised. Delighted.” She shook bits of fragmented glass from her hair and ran into his arms. “Delighted and so proud. You’re my hero, Grandpa. For real.”
He swallowed hard and avoided eye contact. “Stanley’s in a heap of trouble, Burke. How do we break the warding?”
She pointed at the jagged remains of the light fixture. “They’re arrogant beyond belief, Grandpa. They know that The Children of Cain and all manner of creatures could pose a problem. They’ve got doors and portals warded six ways from Sunday, but they see humans as no more than a bunch of high-functioning apes. They have no fear, at all, of human weapons or human ideas.”
“You’re telling me there’s magic all over this peninsula, but hardly a protocol in place to stop a human from waltzing in and doing whatever he darn well pleases? That’s what Stanley said, but it seems about as likely as daisies in January.”
“It’s true. The fence around the back of this building is the western perimeter of the warded area. You wouldn’t be able to get within twenty feet of it if you were anything other than human. It’s electrified, too, but if I understand correctly, if we can figure out how to cut power, we can bust it open with wire cutters.”
“How do you even know all this?”
She gritted her teeth hard enough to make the muscle in her jaw jump. “I haven’t been in the cage the whole time. I saw a lot when I was...” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “He’s dead, right? He must be.”
“Yeah, kid. He’s dead.”
Regret burned in her belly. She wished she’d listened to Stanley’s warnings. She wished she’d said no in the first place. Most of all, she wished she’d been the one to kill the slimy little bastard.
Richard offered her the dagger and gestured with the gun in his hand. “What are we waiting for then? Let’s go show them what our species is made of.”
She wiped her face. There would be time for feelings later. “We need to figure out how to get out of this building,” Burke said. She looked around the room for a moment and an amusing thought popped into her mind. “We’re going to pull a Chewbacca.” Snatching a black cloak from a hook on the wall, she told him, “Here, put this on. Tie me up and drag me through the hall to the back door. We’re going to put on a little show for their amusement, and they’ll let us walk right by.”
The dark fabric weighed more than he would have expected. Like everything in this place, there was more to it than met the eye. He slung the fabric over his shoulders and clipped the little snap at the throat.
Burke tugged the hood over his head, pulling it far enough forward to cast his face into shadow.
“I feel stupid,” he grumbled.
She grinned. “You look awesome, Grandpa. Like Obi Wan Kenobi.”
“Yeah?” He squared his shoulders and stood a little taller.
While he unplugged some random piece of machinery and yanked the cord out of the port in the back, she strapped on the leather sheath and dagger he’d taken from his arm. Then, with her grandfather’s cord wrapped several times around her wrists and tucked between her fists, making a reasonably convincing illusion of a knot, she took a deep breath and asked if he was ready to go.
“Ready as a forty-year-old virgin,” he said. “Stanley’s on his own out there, and he’s in a heap of trouble.” Burke gave the fastest description possible of the layout of the building and as soon as he knew which way he was headed, Richard threw the door open and dragged her into the hallway.
Burke resisted, screaming at him as she staggered along in his wake, “You freak! Sick, twisted, non-human psycho, you can’t do this to me!”
At the other end of the hall, a door slid open and a guard turned red eyes in their direction.
Richard tugged the wire with both hands. “I’m done with you! Ain’t a human in the world worth this much trouble.”
The red-eyed thing snorted in a way that reminded Burke of the recently deceased Albert. “What’re you gonna do?” it called out to Richard.
“Take her out back and shoot her. Leave her for table scraps,” Richard declared. His half-wrecked, breathless voice helped give him a fantastically monsterish tone.
“There’ll be Hell to pay.”
“Been to Hell. Ain’t as bad as putting up with this broad for another shift.”
The thing snorted again. “I’ll be sure to hit the buffet on my next break.”
Burke screamed and pulled so convincingly she just about knocked him on his butt.
He gave her a look and she let up enough that he was able to make some forward progress despite his gimpy leg.
A door at the end of the hall opened into a large space that served as a kind of employee break room. The beings they passed were few and far between, but each gave their full attention to the little show being played out. No doubt, word of Burke’s wild antics had spread far and wide and everyone was amused to see her being dragged along to some horrible end. The looks of amusement on each face, even the hideous, disfigured faces, were unmistakable. Not one creature challenged them.
Burke’s assessment had been spot-on. Their arrogance was their Achilles’ heel. None of these beasts, enthralled in their own coming adventure of setting up a people farm, could imagine that the cattle in question were plotting against them.
Richard dragged Burke through an exit on the other side of the room. Outside, the gunfire and screams of a distant battle spurred them to greater speed. Burke longed to race ahead of her hobbling grandfather. If what he said was true, Stanley was fighting as hard as any man could, but how long could one man, even a great hunter, hold off so many?
“How do I shut down the fence?” Richard asked.
“There.” Burke untangled her wrists from the wire and tossed it aside. “The windmill. That silver box where the wires attach is a transformer. Blow it, and I bet this whole section of the compound goes dead. Even if they have redundant systems, it’ll take a few minutes for those to kick in.”
Richard lifted his gun and sited down the barrel. “Too far, kid. No way I can make that shot.”
“Give me the gun,” she said.
He handed it over and, without another word, she raced toward the windmill. Seconds later, she jumped onto the bottom rung of the windmill’s outside ladder and climbed with adrenaline-fueled strength and speed. Halfway to the top, she extended her left arm and fired three rounds in quick succession. Sparks showered down from the box and, all around them, floodlights flickered and died.
She peered down over her shoulder in time to see Richard pull the pin on a grenade and threw it at the fence. It landed a foot or so short, but who cared? In horseshoes and hand grenades, close was good enough for a win. The device detonated.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Richard
Time slowed to a crawl. Richard saw the metal net tear away from the frame and watched with dread fascination as one broken cross-piece ripped away from the rest of the structure and spun, end over sharp-edged end, in his direction. So slowly did the Earth rotate at that moment, he actually had time to consider his own death. No way he was going to dodge fast enough to get out of the path of oncoming impalement. Time may have slowed, but he himself was sluggish as molasses in January. He lifted one arm to shield himself, as if that would do some sort of good, and winced in anticipation of the pain to come.
A metallic clang rang out and he staggered backward as something hit him.
It took a moment to register the fact that nothing had stabbed him. The bar lay in a mangled heap at his feet. Smoke curled upward from a little circle on the cloak. Apparently, the heavy fabric stopped the shrapnel.
“Well, dip me in bacon grease and call me a pig,” he muttered.
“Grandpa!”
Richard ran. Well, he didn’t exactly run. His left leg refused to swing, and both rickety old knees protested the necessary up and down pumping required of running. Rather, he lurched along awkwardly, as fast as he possibly could.
His gait wasn’t fast enough to save Stanley, but it was fast enough to see the shadow demons converge on him and pull him down to the ground. Stanley screamed, not the sound of fear, but the sound of a man being shredded alive.
“No!” Richard shouted and fired a flare. The demons scattered like roaches under a light and Stanley struggled up, making it as far as his hands and knees before the light blinked out and they were on him again, pressing him flat.
Richard fished in his pockets for another flare to ram into the cylinder, but as he did, a queer shimmering glow arched across the sky, headed toward Stanley. Looking up caused Richard to stumble. He slowed his gait to avoid falling.
Burke reached him and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.
The glow in the sky grew until the light hurt his eyes, a great, shimmering rainbow shining impossibly in the pre-dawn sky.
Still wearing his dandy suit, little red-headed Michael slid down the glowing slope like a kid on a playground slide and landed neatly on his feet not more than a yard away from Stanley. He scattered what looked like glitter across the ground next to him and the girl in the silver gown popped out of nowhere. She held her hands wide, lighting the beach as bright as a summer day.
Sirens blared all around them. Hissing and roars caused the hairs on the back of Richard’s neck to stand up straight. Swords clanged and guns fired. Something broke the surface of Lake Superior, its gaping maw revealing row upon row of serrated, pointed teeth.
One of the bat-winged lizard men flew at them from the direction of the rocket. Burke’s spine stiffened and then she sped toward him, silver dagger raised above her head, a war cry upon her lips. The creature landed hard and produced a mace. A freaking mace? What kind of monster carries a goll-darned mace in his belt? Burke hit the ground and slid in low, going right between the beast’s legs and popping up on the other side. The thing’s fierce expression slipped into a mask of total surprise. It looked down at the knife point poking out of its chest and then fell forward, landing with a little poof of sand.
Richard looked toward Stanley. The hunter lay on the ground and, for one terrible moment, Richard was certain he was dead. Richard hustled to his side as fast as he could manage over the uneven ground. Stanley turned his head, a wide, guileless grin on his face. He pointed at the rainbow. “It’s so pretty!”
Richard stopped and looked up. He looked back at Stanley. “You havin’ a stroke or something?”
Stanley laughed and pushed into a sitting position, his legs akimbo. “My friend, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so good.” He watched the fighting for a few seconds before turning back to Richard. “Look how strong they all are! And diverse! What an amazing array of creatures live here on this beautiful blue planet. Or, at least, on this version of the planet.”
Richard approached him and held out a hand.
Stanley took it, hoisted himself up, and pulled him into a bear hug. “You came back for me. You always do. No matter what kind of a mess I’m in, I know you’re going to come for me. Has any hunter ever been lucky enough to have such a loyal partner?”
Richard half-lifted his arms, not sure how to respond. A severed limb struck nearby rocks. Michael strode past, his starched white shirt splattered with blood and something green and slightly iridescent. Without slowing, he said, “That is a fantastic cloak, Richard. An excellent acquisition. Why don’t you wrap it around Smiley McHappyface there and head for that hole you blew in the fence?” He lifted a device he held. Red numbers glowed 4:56, 4:55, 4:54... “I believe you’re going to want the chopper to be well up and over the forest before this hits zero.”
A strigoi flew at them. Richard’s body reacted faster than his brain, strength born on the memory of a creature similar to this one appearing out of nowhere when he was at his most vulnerable. He whipped a wooden stake out of his belt and thrust it into the beast’s chest as it bore down upon them. It burst into a rain of ash that puddled in front of his feet.
“Wow!” Stanley said. “For an old guy, you move with astonishing speed and accuracy. You must have been fantastic in your prime, truly a world-class athlete. It’s easy to see where Burke gets her speed and agility.”
Burke jogged up, panting and gore smeared.
“We gotta make like a tree and leave,” he told her.
She nodded. “I heard. You okay, Stanley?”
A piece of shrapnel flew at them from one of the nearby battles. Richard flung out his arm and the flaming bits bounced from his cloak harmlessly.
“Isn’t he something?” Stanley asked. His eyes grew wide. “And you—I don’t know if I have ever told you how absolutely stunning you are. Just look at you, fierce and strong, an African goddess of war.”
Burke looked at her grandfather. “He’s okay?”
Richard shrugged. “He ain’t dead. Let’s get outta here. We’ll figure it out later.”
The trio dodged, staggered, and fought their way back to the fence. Burke led the way. Stanley stopped to admire the sparkly rainbow again. Richard gave him a strong shove toward their escape route and Stanley passed through the gap, marveling the whole while about how clever Richard and Burke had been to break the warding. Richard rolled his eyes and walked backward toward the chopper, his gun held at the ready. One cat-eyed creature slid out from behind a tree and nodded at him. “Well done, hunter,” it said.
Part of Richard swelled at the compliment. Part of him loathed the thing and longed to shoot it. In the name of expediency, he chose Door Number Three, ignored it altogether, and focused on getting into the chopper before half the upper peninsula blew into the sky.
Apparently, the pilot, unidentifiable behind the cover of flight overalls, enormous helmet and dark goggles, was of the same mind. He had the runners off the ground before their butts hit the seats. Old cat-eyes jumped in at the last minute and, with a groan, pulled the heavy door shut behind him, locking out a fair amount of the astonishing racket the rotors created.
After a moment of vertical assent that pushed Richard’s heart down so hard he wouldn’t be surprised to find it tucked in between the family jewels, they banked hard to the left, skimming inches above the treetops.
“Flying is so exciting,” Stanley exclaimed.
Burke met Richard’s gaze.
Richard shrugged. “He’s gone all loopy.”
“I’m just so happy,” Stanley said.
An explosion shattered the night. Hot wind shook the chopper until Richard felt like a grain of rice in a saltshaker. Fire burned so bright, the whole forest glowed neon orange for a long moment. Then the flames died out and a cloud not entirely unlike the mushroom clouds he’d seen in movies rolled upward to mingle with the clouds.
After that, no one spoke again until the chopper soared over the twinkling lights that traced the unmistakable outline of the Mackinaw Island Bridge.
“Just look what people built,” Stanley sighed. “Those creatures were mighty foolish to live in a world full of wonders like that and still fail to understand the power of human ingenuity.” Tears glistened in his eyes. “How sad we had to fight them. How sad we’ve not yet learned to settle differences without bloodshed.”
“Loopy,” Richard repeated.
Burke leaned forward. “Stanley, you were fighting all by yourself on that beach. There were a lot of creatures there.”
Stanley scoffed and grinned. “Boy, is that an understatement!”
“What did they do t
o you?”
He leaned forward as if confiding a great secret, “I confess, I’m a bit prideful about how well I held them off. I mean, I expected they’d kill me in moments and, I’m sorry to say this Richard, but I did wonder if you’d be coming back. I mean, it was a tough mission, to say the least. Then the lights went out and I knew I was a goner. I mean, I was certain down deep in my bones. Ready to meet my maker.” One of his tears escaped and cut a clean path through the dirt on his face. “But then, just when all was lost, I looked up and there you were, Richard.”
A little frown crossed his face, a shadow of confusion. “Something happened then. It hurt so much I...” He shook his head as if to clear it. “I don’t want to think about that. The next moment, I realized how much good is in the world. I realized I can be part of the good. We all can. We can shine as bright of the sun. All we need to do is choose to turn away from darkness. Everything can be warmth and light. Then I knew my fight was over and I was free and happy. No more fighting. No more revenge. No anger or death or pain, only light.” He threw his head back and laughed like a little child overcome by joy.
A familiar voice said, “His shadow has been severed.”
Michael sat facing them from the pilot’s seat, the helmet and goggles in his lap, while Felix the Cat flew the helicopter from the co-pilot’s seat.
“How the Sam Hill?” Richard muttered.
“On the rainbow, of course,” Michael answered.
Richard expected maybe he could make sense of that sometime in the future, but right now, it made as much sense as a Jell-O umbrella.
“Without his shadow, Stanley literally has no darkness in him. He’s pure light. Only goodness and joy. Yin, undiluted by so much as a single drop of yang.”
“Goodness and joy is...well...good, but somehow this doesn’t seem like a good thing,” Burke said.
