by Chris Fox
He gazed up at the steely grey sky, small black veins of smoke the only reminder of the wreckage that had so recently rained down from the heavens. It had scattered all over the strange rocky landscape. The mountains around him were jagged and austere, the bare granite bones of the earth laid bare. It was unlike any place he’d ever been, brown and desolate. Only a few scrubby bushes dotted the surrounding area.
The only other feature was a thick black road leading to a smattering of structures to the north. He searched his memories, but found nothing about this place. Yet another reason he must rely upon Trevor. It irked him, but he had little choice. Irakesh gazed skyward again, searching a moment before he found another crackling green and black cloud.
It was smaller than his had been, but not by much. That alarmed him. Trevor shouldn’t have been able to pick up such advanced shaping so quickly. Yet he had. It presaged the powerful deathless he’d become.
Trevor’s friends were still in pursuit, of that Irakesh was certain. The Ka-Dun hadn’t come any closer, but neither was he growing more distant. Odds were good he was marshaling his forces for another strike. By the time the Ka-Dun caught up Irakesh would be at the Ark. Ra willing, he’d have time to detonate the bomb, as well.
Trevor’s cloud approached rapidly, drifting landward as Irakesh had done only moments before. Trevor's risen was still in control, though that would change as soon as the danger had passed. It was an interesting failsafe, the addition of a second consciousness for all deathless. He wasn’t sure he’d have made the same choice if he were crafting the virus today. The risen was potent, but sometimes did as it willed rather than as the bearer wished.
Hot wind swirled around Irakesh as Trevor’s cloud enveloped a shrub a few feet away. The green tendrils pulsed weakly, gathering into a tighter and tighter pattern until they coalesced into the man himself. Trevor blinked rapidly, sagging to his knees and bracing himself on a neighboring boulder. He looked both disoriented and a little ill. Unsurprising. Shifting your entire body to energy took much from the best shapers, and Trevor was still struggling to master the trick.
“What happened?” he gasped, staggering back to his feet. His strange copper hair played in the wind, a reminder of how much the world had changed since Irakesh had begun his ageless slumber. His contemporaries had been dark skinned with dark hair and eyes.
“I gifted your Risen with the knowledge of form shaping. You became pure energy, a taxing but potent ability,” Irakesh explained, studying the road stretching in both directions. The sun’s warm embrace trickled power into his depleted reserves, but more slowly than he’d like. He had to remind himself that it was early in the cycle and as such, it would be years before he had anything approaching his former power. “You should be able to draw on that knowledge now that you’ve used it, but I’d caution you not to use it too freely. More than one deathless has transformed back midair, plummeting to their untimely demise.”
“Thank you,” Trevor said, rolling his neck with an alarming series of cracks. He eyed the silver box next to Irakesh. “You saved the bomb? That’s impossible. How did you get it to the ground safely?”
“A great many things are possible for a shaper,” Irakesh replied, unable to suppress his grin. Saving the bomb had been extremely taxing. He’d very nearly failed. “Now we need to find a way to transport it. If Cyntia survived the fall, she’d be ideal for carrying the box. Neither of us is strong enough to move it quickly.”
“If she didn’t survive we can find a four-wheel-drive drive vehicle of some kind,” Trevor suggested, squinting in the sunlight as he studied the road. Irakesh was quietly pleased; his thrall still seemed cooperative. Perhaps it was the man’s relief at Cyntia’s possible death. That didn’t surprise Irakesh, as Trevor’s growing distaste for the fallen Ka-Ken was obvious.
The unmistakable cocking of a shotgun sounded from behind them. Irakesh turned to see a trio of men rise from the surrounding desert like a mirage made flesh. Each wore mottled tans and grays designed to fade into the landscape, with odd-looking goggles he was unfamiliar with. All three had rifles at the ready, the black barrels and dark wood unlike the previous guns Irakesh had seen. Their leader had a bushy white mustache and leathery skin, with a thick belly that suggested he enjoyed beer.
He gestured at his companions to remain behind him, and then stepped forward with his rifle aimed at Irakesh’s face. “Just what the hell are you poor fuckers? Ain’t never seen anything like what you just did, and that makes me want to fill your pointy asses with lead. You got a reason why I shouldn’t?”
“I can offer three,” Irakesh said, taking a step closer and raising a calming hand to Trevor. He didn’t want his thrall killing these men, not just yet. “Firstly, your pathetic little weapons cannot kill me. Try if you wish. But know that when you fail tales of your death will echo through this new age.”
“You got balls redder than a brick built shit house, so maybe you’re the fucking devil hisself in this new hell. Don’t mean I’m afraid of you,” the man shot back. He called back over his shoulder, careful not to look away from Irakesh. Smart. The speaker turned to a companion. “Roberto, either one of them so much as moves I want you to give 'em one of your special presents.” The man he indicated was almost as wide as he was short, but he moved well despite his girth. He gave a tight nod, reaching into a satchel hanging from his belt.
“You said three reasons,” the leader said, turning his full attention back to Irakesh. “It’s dryer than a goddamn popcorn fart out here and I ain’t that patient to begin with. My finger’s starting to itch, so why don’t you finish your blustering so we can kill you and get back to something more interesting?”
“Assuredly,” Irakesh said, grinning at the unnatural patch of darkness he spotted along the side of a boulder behind the men. “The second reason is that we can protect you from the things you call zombies.”
“Don’t need protection. We’ve been taking care of ourselves pretty damn well, thank you,” the man said, finger tightening imperceptibly. Irakesh found his misplaced confidence endearing. He’d make an amusing thrall if he could learn obedience.
“Very well. I believe you’ll find the last reason the most compelling. Cyntia, would you eat the man’s companions? Start with the fat one,” Irakesh called, hoping he was right in his assumption. If not he’d deal with the matter himself.
The patch of darkness detached from the rock, shifting into an eleven-foot-tall werewolf. She lunged with all the ferocity of a female, massive maw engulfing Roberto’s head, even as her meaty hands wrapped around his midsection. He gave a muted shriek that ended abruptly as Cyntia ripped his head and most of his neck free. Blood fountained to the dry dirt as she wolfed down flesh and bone.
The second man, a tall lanky fellow, turned to run. Cyntia didn’t even set down her meal, dragging Roberto’s remains by one fat arm as she leapt. She came down on the man’s back, driving him to the ground with a sickening crunch of bone. His rifle tumbled away, forgotten as she began savaging his shrieking form.
The remaining man's jaw fell open as he eyed his companions' corpses.
“Yup, third reason was definitely the best. You got me fucked in the ass like a prison yard bitch,” the mustached man said. He set his rifle slowly on the ground. “Name’s Wild-Cat Tom. Kill me if you’re gonna, but if not can we get out of this heat? I got a little ranch a ways north. Boys and I hunt pigs up there. Used to do it with tourists, but works just as well now that the world’s gone to shit.”
“Very well, take us to this camp. Is there some form of transport there we can use to journey north? Oh and Tom, from now on you will address me as master,” Irakesh said, grinning broadly. If Tom were disconcerted he hid it well.
“Yeah, I’ve got a big Toyota Tundra. Uh, master,” Tom said, bending slowly to pick up his rifle. “It guzzles gas like a pig eatin' shit, but the roads are a mess and it will get us around the worst of it. Where is it we’re going?”
“North,” Irake
sh answered, turning to Cyntia. “When you are done feasting would you be so kind as to carry the bomb? At least until our new friend can load it onto his transport.”
Cyntia glanced up at Irakesh, face coated in gore as she worried a piece of grizzled fat. She gave a low growl, eyes feral. Excellent. Her beast truly ruled now.
Chapter 52- Water Landing
Blair peered out the right side of the cockpit as the plane soared over the moonlit bay glittering beneath them. It was a sight he knew well. He’d seen the Golden Gate Bridge often enough, because he lived a bare forty miles north. Yet even from this altitude he could tell that something was wrong. A myriad of dim blocky shapes were spread across the bridge, straddling lanes or pressed against the guard rail as if trying to escape, just as their human owners had no doubt attempted.
Dozens of figures picked their way between the vehicles, their shambling gait all too familiar by now. Blair heaved a sigh, turning to Steve, “I didn’t really expect it to be any different than the other cities we flew over, but this is home. I guess I still held out hope that somehow it hadn’t spread this far north.”
Steve turned in his chair, peering over a pair of black sunglasses he’d liberated from the corpse of the captain who'd once sat in that spot. His stubble could almost be called a beard, but had been cut fashionably short. “Being a pragmatic bastard sucks. I expected as much, but it does sting. The bay was home for both of us once upon on a time.”
For all three of us, Blair thought. Bridget was still in the back of the plane. She’d made herself scarce for the entirety of the eleven-hour flight. He knew her well enough to know that something was wrong, something that had to do with Steve. Was it guilt over what they’d done back in Panama? Maybe she felt like she’d betrayed Steve in the same way she’d once betrayed Blair. What did that make him?
“Can you feel him?” Steve asked.
Blair pointed out the co-pilot’s window to the area just south of the Richmond Bridge. He could feel something there, pulsing in a deep rhythm that might have been a heartbeat. “Oakland, maybe. Or Berkeley. Irakesh could be farther out than that, but probably not too far. He’s getting close. We should find a spot to set down.”
“Yeah, that’s going to be a problem,” Steve replied, banking in a long slow turn that carried them towards the ocean near the Golden Gate Bridge.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m not going to like what you’re about to suggest?” Blair asked, scanning the bay for an answer. It was cluttered with boats of all sizes, from the massive ferry he used to take into the city to smaller sailboats.
“The bridge isn’t an option and I doubt we’ll find a stretch of highway that will work. We don’t need the plane any more, either. If we survive this, we can get another one. It has to be a water landing. It’s the only way,” Steve gave back in that detached calm that Blair so envied. “I can take us north along the coast, maybe dump this thing somewhere near Stinson beach. We can hike up Mount Tam and into Mill Valley. That will put us just north of the bridge.”
Blair thought hard, scanning the shadowed skyscrapers without much hope. He unbuckled his seatbelt and stood. “All right. I can’t think of a better idea. We’ll do a water landing. I’ll go let Bridget know. How long?”
“Maybe ten minutes? Might be less. This thing moves almost six hundred miles an hour,” he said, glancing at Blair as the plane righted its course. “Grab what you think we need from the back. We’re going to have to get out the second we hit the water, or risk getting pulled under when this thing floods. I know we’re werewolves and all but I still don’t think we’d enjoy that.”
Blair nodded, ducking through the door into first class. Bridget had organized the place, moving the green duffles Steve had loaded into neat stacks near the door. She looked up as Blair entered, her gaze darting towards the cockpit. There was fear there. He wasn’t imagining it. She perked up a bit when her attention moved to him, but he could tell she was still laboring under the weight of something she couldn’t share.
“Are we there yet?” she asked, delivering a weak smile. Chestnut curls dusted the shoulders of a tight blouse she’d been wearing for the last couple of days. He let his eyes linger for a moment.
“Nearly. But ‘there’ isn’t the airport. There isn’t any place to set down, especially without power. There are no runway lights and we don’t have enough fuel to wait until dawn,” Blair explained, dropping into the plush leather seat next to hers.
“Oh god. We’re setting down in the bay, aren’t we?” Bridget asked, hand resting on the edge of his chair. She wasn’t tall enough to actually reach his arm, so he leaned into her. It felt good.
“Yup, water landing. Steve’s going to dump us right off the coast. He wants us to grab what we can. We’re going to make for shore and hike in,” Blair explained. A detached part of his mind realized just how crazy that plan sounded, but there wasn’t the slightest doubt in his mind they could pull it off. This was the easy part.
“Okay. The three bags on the left of the door are probably the most important. Food, water and weapons mostly,” she said, gesturing at the bags with a delicate hand. She wore the beginnings of a smile, shy enough that it might run back into hiding at any moment. “Blair, listen I’ve been meaning to talk to you. I mean I know this isn’t the best time, but I just want you to know…” She trailed off, words seeming to allude her. Her gaze shone with feeling. It said all the things she seemed incapable of.
This is your She, Ka-Dun. Feel the strength of her bond.
Blair’s mind went immediately to Liz. Was she okay?
“Listen, I know things went south a long time ago. We both remember what happened,” he said, leaning over and taking her hand. He paused, staring into her eyes for long moments before continuing. “We’ve all made mistakes. I know you regret what happened, and looking back I think I can see why you did what you did. I’m not excusing it. It was horrible. But I’ve stopped hating you for it and you need to stop hating yourself. Let it go, all right?”
The smile burst to life and she buried her face in his chest. Blair encircled her in his arms, stroking her hair. Hot wet tears soaked through his shirt. His chest grew warm, and he whispered into her ear, “We’re going to get through this. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Steve, but that’s not my business. What is my business is us. When this is over, we’ll sit down and have a long talk. I don’t really know where we stand. There’s a lot to sort out, but we’ll do it together, okay?”
She pulled back, wiping her eyes as she smiled up at him. The gesture left streaks of black in their wake. He hadn’t realized she was still wearing makeup. She’d always been skilled enough in its application that he could rarely tell. Her posture straightened and her chin took on that set that told him she was about to do something she found terrifying.
“Blair, you have to watch out for Steve,” she said, gaze more sober than it had ever been. She paused, glancing at the cockpit before those deep brown eyes found him again. “I don’t know what he’s planning, but it isn’t good. It’s the same way he acted just before he and I…well before we did what we did to you. Only this time it’s worse. Blair, he hates you now, no matter what you might think.”
“I won’t argue with that. I embarrassed him. He’ll never forgive that. Ever. But I don’t see what he’d stand to gain in screwing me over,” Blair said, leaning back against the leather. He’d expected a lot of things from Bridget, but this wasn’t one of them. How long had she been carrying this around, worrying about telling him?
Your She speaks with wisdom. This rival Ka-Dun cannot be trusted.
“Just watch yourself around him, okay?” she asked, resting an arm on his bicep as she rose to her feet. “Promise me you’ll be careful?”
“I promise, but you’ll look out for me, right? Bridget, you’re a female. I’m not worried about Steve,” he said, giving her as warm a smile as he could muster. She was clearly worried and that suggested Steve had given her cause. Just what
was the bastard up to? It didn’t matter. Blair needed him right now.
“You two almost finished back there?” Steve yelled from the cockpit. The perfect timing suggested he’d been listening to their conversation and wanted them to know. Or wanted Bridget to know, anyway. What was he holding over her?
“Yeah,” Blair called back, rising to join Bridget. “We’ll get the emergency door ready to open as soon as we hit the water.”
“Might want to buckle in,” Steve yelled back, leaning over his chair so they could see his face through the cockpit’s open door. “This is going to be a rough landing. Surf’s pretty choppy from what I can see.”
“You ready for this?” Blair asked, turning to Bridget.
“Yeah, I’m ready. Just remember what I said,” she replied, rising to her tiptoes to kiss him. She broke it a moment later, giving an embarrassed smile as she knelt to retrieve one of the bulky canvas duffles. “This bag’s the most important, but those two would be nice to have as well. I’ll grab another one after we hit the water. You can pick up the last one.”
“One last thing before we go. Steve showed it to me while we were in the cockpit earlier,” Blair said, resting his hands on her shoulder. He stared deep into her eyes.
I’ve got a gift for you. As much as I might enjoy it, I’m sure you’re tired of shredding your clothes when you change. Blair thought, extending his mind towards Bridget. He pushed the same memory Steve had shared, impressing it upon her mind.
Bridget gasped, then gave one of the delighted smiles he’d so loved in their previous life. In the blink of an eye she shifted to a full nine feet of silver ferocity, her clothes disappearing into her skin as she did so. She gave a wolfish grin, “Thank you, Blair. This is an incredible gift. I can’t believe he shared it with you.”
