Surrogacy

by Rob Horner

  That changed with the coming of the Dra’Gal. That changed when Tanya decided to tell me how she felt, and when I discovered no one else was as beautiful to me.

  All I wanted, in that moment, was to ask Jeff to take us away, teleport us somewhere safe, where the word Dra’Gal only meant a “God bless you” was coming, usually with an offer of a handkerchief, and where the only things Chosen were items off the dollar menu at McDonald’s.

  A strobe of light flashed at the edge of vision, drawing my attention to the dim glow which kept the horizon at the far end of the carnival alight.

  My fight wasn’t over.

  “Get the doors,” I said quietly.

  “Okay but put her toward the right. There’s already someone else in this one.”

  The doors opened and the interior light came on, highlighting blond hair and soft skin, eyes that would be blue if they were open.

  “When did—?” I tried to ask.

  “When you ran off to get that one. You can thank Danielle and Josh later. He’s the one who threw one of your purge balls.”

  Trying not to hurt her, I spun so that my back was to the van, then sat down on the floor.

  “I’ve got her legs,” Jeff said. “Now, scoot back until she’s in. We’ll flip her onto her back then.”

  I did as he said, keeping my arms around her, pushing myself back with my feet. Only when I felt the dividing wall to the cab hit my back did I start guiding her down to the side. Once my body was clear, I was able to slide away enough to set her down completely. With Jeff’s help, we laid her as comfortably as possible on her back.

  Crystal lay on the other side, so close that their shoulders almost touched, but my eyes were only for Tanya, drinking in the soft lines of her face, the rich chocolate of her hair.

  Her face looked thinner, like she hadn’t been eating well. She’d always been trim and lean, athletic, built for speed and endurance. Now her arms were thinner, the bones of her wrists standing out. She still wore the same dark clothes we’d picked out for our raid on the carnival, which brought a flame of fury to life in my chest. These things took over our bodies and didn’t have the decency to take care of them, to change clothes, to shower. Maybe some of them did, but only for the purpose of hiding among us. Those like Tanya, a weapon to be used, apparently didn’t rate such consideration.

  Crystal looked much cleaner, more presentable. She wore blue jeans and one of the carnival shirts. Perhaps they used her to move among the masses, pointing out gifted people for the demons to target.

  It wasn’t fair, but in that moment, I felt a rage near to hatred for the blond girl, that she’d been taken care of far better than the one I loved.

  I had to do something with these emotions before I burst.

  “Are they safe here?” I asked.

  “As safe as they can be,” Jeff answered. “Certainly safer than back there.”

  “No matter what, you’ll get them out of here?”

  “As soon as Iz gives the order—”

  I was outside the van and standing in front of the older man, my hands fisted and glowing white before he finished the sentence. “No matter what,” I said, this time through gritted teeth. “If it’s going bad, if it’s the last thing you can do, you get out here and drive away.”

  I’m not sure what he saw in my face, but his resolve cracked. He nodded. “Yeah. Sure. No matter what I’ll get them to safety. I promise.”

  And that was enough.

  We locked the van doors and turned back to face the horizon.

  “All right, Jeff. Take me back.”

  Chapter 30

  The Banisher

  I was running as soon as we popped onto the battlefield, ignoring the wrenching sensations in my gut. Things had changed in the few minutes we’d been gone, some of them for the good. More than half of the Dra’Gal force was down, human forms either unconscious or dead, and only thirty or so of the monstrous beings remained standing. I’d banished a few, both in my initial rush and in my headlong sprint to get to Tanya, and who knows how many might have been caught in the purge bomb thrown by Josh.

  But for all those accomplishments, there were losses to consider.

  Our forces hadn’t progressed far beyond the trailer wall. Instead they held there, Caitlin, Michael, James, and Gina, supported by Iz, Fish, and Little Jack. Everyone else was down, impossible to tell if they were hurt or how badly.

  Jeff had deposited us behind the Dra’Gal. If they’d felt the air of our arrival, they gave no indication.

  As happened before, my hands began to glow.

  “Get the injured out of here, Jeff,” I said. “And don’t forget the three guarding the fence.”

  “What’re you going to do?”

  “Make them pay,” I said, charging forward.

  They were only twenty or thirty, and within seconds, as light flashed with every contact, that number was cut in half.

  Jeff popped in amongst the survivors, reached down and placed his hands on two of the still forms, and teleported away.

  As that happened, the remaining Dra’Gal let out a scream, more than a dozen voices somehow lifting together, perfectly timed. They turned to face me, and they paid for it.

  Palgwe Chil Jang came over me. Front stance to double low block—light flashed and a Dra’Gal’s taloned foot was driven into the concrete. A double outside block caught two attackers coming in from both sides, my bare forearms against theirs, and two more Dra’Gal disappeared. My hand came down to touch the first demon’s face, banishing him, before both arms came back up in a high cross block, catching the overhand blow of a charging demon—light flashed, and he vanished. Shifting into a back stance, I swung a double knife hand middle block to one side, then a middle block followed by a high punch to the other, strobing light and sending one Dra’Gal flying and banishing the other into nothingness.

  This is what I needed, a different way to fight, rather than relying on kicks that were practiced and perfected for style more than effectiveness. These were the roots of Tae Kwon Do, forms that flowed from one stance to another, blocks arranged in an order designed to simulate fighting multiple foes attacking from different directions. It wasn’t a perfect simulation—no simulation ever is—but all that was required to make it work was a slight change in the angles.

  My friends didn’t remain idle during my performance. Michael sent out streaks of fire like a dragon’s hiccup, preventing the Dra’Gal from congregating on one side, while Gina and James kept up their tag team on the other. Box them in, light them up, make them unable to withstand Caitlin’s strength or my banishing touch.

  By the time Fish returned to fetch another pair, the only things standing in the clearing were us.

  For a second, there was silence.

  “That it?” Little Jack asked.

  I lowered my fists and turned to look.

  The lights still shone, casting their warm radiance down on the fifty-odd people lying on the ground, creating shadows around those of us standing that reached out in all directions. The maze of bodies extended away from the trailer wall behind us for perhaps twenty feet, with some few making a smaller pile to the right. Those would be the people Josh saved with a well-timed throw of one of my creations.

  And in the center of the clearing was the small, boxy trailer I remembered from my previous visits.

  The resonator was in there.

  With the heat of battle ebbing, I could feel it. It was a sound, like the hum of fluorescent lighting which you eventually learn to ignore, only this was louder, demanding that you focus on it. There was a pull, light as a thread but as insistent as a team of football players playing tug-of-war, trying to draw me in.

  Michael walked up on my right even as James came up on my left. Then both were moving past me, arms at their sides and faces slack.

  “Get back here, you two,” Iz ordered. But if they heard, they gave no indication.

  “I warned you,” I said, jumping forward, reaching out and latchin
g onto their arms so they would either have to drag me or stop moving. From what I’d seen with the girls, they wouldn’t have the willpower to pull. They’d just stand there, restrained, until the moment passed, and they were able to break free.

  “Damn, it is strong,” Caitlin said, coming up to help. “But I got this. After what one of those things did to my sister, there ain’t no way I’d ever give in to it.” She spun around in front of the two men and placed a hand on each of their chests. Slowly but unrelentingly, she pushed them back.

  “You okay, Johnny?” she asked as I let go of their arms.

  “Yeah. It’s like the first time prepared me. I can tell it’s there, wanting me to pay attention to it, but it doesn’t have a chance of luring me in.”

  “Good, ‘cause I’d really hate to have to try to drag your butt back too.” She flashed her crooked smile, then pushed on past.

  “Are we all in danger, or just the dumb guys?” Gina asked, slowly coming forward. A few steps beyond the unconscious forms on the ground and she stumbled. “Crap, even knowing it’s coming, that’s still a powerful pull.” She gave her head a shake, auburn hair flying. “I’m good, though. What’s next?”

  “The hell are you people talking about,” Iz muttered, coming forward.

  “It’s a weird form of subliminal wave,” Fish said, “somewhere in the Theta range. Looks like it should induce a near-meditative state that is highly open to suggestion.”

  “English, please,” Little Jack said.

  Michael and James stood behind the soldier, shaking their heads as they overcame the pull.

  “Sounds like that hypnotist my wife wanted us to go see,” Iz said.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Little Jack commented, coming forward as well.

  Fish turned his helmeted head from one man to the other. “Interesting. It doesn’t appear to affect people who weren’t altered by the Catalyst.”

  “First time I’ve been glad about that,” Little Jack said.

  “However,” Fish continued, “people who weren’t affected by the Catalyst can still become Dra’Gal, so this immunity to the wavelength does not imply an immunity to possession. Hmm—”

  “Fish,” Iz cautioned, “now really isn’t the time—”

  “But if we could figure out why the wavelength doesn’t affect some people, we might be able to rig up some form of protection for our people, maybe a sub-audible waveform generator that is constantly propagated through the Port-Comms—" His voice trailed off as his thoughts turned inward.

  Iz sighed, then turned back to us.

  “You really think it’s in there?” he asked.

  “Something is,” Caitlin said.

  “Definitely not cool, either,” James added.

  If describing my dreams hadn’t convinced them, nothing else I said would. The pull was enough to convince my fellow Chosen. “It’s there,” I said simply.

  “Then let’s go get it,” the veteran replied.

  The door to the trailer opened and a man emerged. He was dressed as though going to a prom, sleek black pants with that shiny stripe on the outside of the leg and a white shirt with frilly ruffles running up and down either side of the buttons in the center. The only thing missing was the jacket.

  “Who’s that?” Gina asked.

  “And where’s his boutonniere?” Michael asked.

  “Probably on his jacket,” James answered.

  Still a dozen feet away, it was hard to judge his height, but I could make a pretty good guess. Two or three inches taller than me, with brown eyes and a face that could blend into any crowd.

  “He came out of the trailer,” Little Jack said, “which means he’s probably all about keeping us from getting in.” He ejected a spent magazine and slapped in a fresh one, then used the slide to ready the first round.

  “He’s coming this way,” Caitlin said. “We can just ask him.”

  The well-dressed man stepped away from the trailer, walking toward us.

  “Uh, guys—” James said, “he’s getting bigger.” Sudden sparks of electricity surrounded his hands, like the ends of a set of jumper cables coming too close together.

  The man grew as he approached, his body transforming. There was no popping or cracking, no shredding of clothes as his body changed. He didn’t scream like the process pained him. Instead, it was like a cheap blur edit in a made-for-television movie. His clothes misted as his form stretched taller, white shirt darkening, onyx cuff links wrapping around the wrists, merging with the spreading black of the sleeves and lengthening, hanging over the clawed hands. A dark cowl appeared on the head, or sprang out of the brown hair, hanging forward and obscuring the man’s features.

  After two steps he was twelve feet tall.

  “Spread out! It’s the alpha!” Iz yelled.

  Chapter 31

  A battle we can’t win

  The first time I saw this thing was terrifying. Towering twelve feet high, it had already killed one of Iz’s men with a shaft of wood thrown like a spear. It was surrounded by hundreds of demons, one of them Tanya, and it broke Gina’s shield wall like it was a construct made of cardboard and hope.

  This time it was alone.

  Don’t get me wrong, at twelve feet tall and shrouded in enough fabric to keep a seamstress busy for a year, it was still terrifying.

  But it was the only thing standing between us and the resonator.

  So, when Iz said “spread out,” naturally, I rushed toward it.

  The alpha swung a leg forward, like it wanted to kick me. It was fast, much faster than it should be considering its size, but I’d been fighting these things for weeks, and had adapted to the speed of the much smaller Dra’Gal. As in all things, relativity rules. If strength is relative to size, then speed is too, but in an inverse proportion. So, while it was faster than it had any right to be, it was slower than me.

  A quick sidestep to the left got me past the swinging leg, and before me stretched ten feet of open concrete and the unguarded trailer.

  Gunshots sounded behind me, Fish and Little Jack and Iz unloading on the form now that I wasn’t in their line of sight.

  I entertained a brief moment of turning to help, but there might never be a better shot at the resonator. I had the power to destroy it. I knew it.

  “Johnny, wait!” Gina or maybe Caitlin shouted, and I turned in time to see a bolt of lightning streak away from James and slam into the alpha’s torso. The cowled head turned up to the sky and a scream of rage rang out, a thousand voices warring with each other and somehow coming out of a single throat.

  It wasn’t paying attention to me.

  Maybe I could purge it. Then we could get the resonator.

  With a thought, the glow of light came to my hands. Another burst of gunfire came in high, followed by several of the blasts of purple light. Bits of the goo ricocheted off, splashing to the ground around the thing’s feet.

  And I came up behind it, running at its legs, rearing back and punching forward as hard as I could.

  Light flashed and the thing roared again.

  But its leg didn’t move.

  It swung down at me, arm coming backhand, catching me in the chest and blasting me away. My back slammed into the side of the trailer, breath blasting out of me as something cracked inside. Desperately trying to catch my breath, I slumped forward onto my hands and knees.

  “Jeff, get him,” Iz ordered.

  “I can’t,” the older man said, popping into existence five feet in front of me. He put his hand out, fingers splayed, like a mime pretending he’d run into a pane of glass. He pushed forward and I could see the skin of his palms compressing, whitening under the pressure. “There’s something here I can’t push through or teleport through,” he reported.

  The alpha roared again, this time with laughter.

  “Get me past him,” Caitlin said.

  “Michael, you attack from the left. James, get on the right,” Iz said.

  Another volley of gunfire came in.
>
  I raised my head.

  The alpha hadn’t moved. His clothing jumped with the bullets, but if they were striking his skin or doing any harm to him, it didn’t show. The slugs weren’t falling to the ground or zipping away as deadly ricochets, so he wasn’t bulletproof in the classic Superman sense. A stream of fire like from a flamethrower roared in from my right as another blast of lightning rocked into the towering monster from the left. The alpha just stood there, weathering the assault. Through the crackling flames and arcing electricity, it was obvious nothing affected it. The clothes didn’t scorch and blacken.

  A sharp pain dug into my sides as the spasm in my diaphragm eased and I finally drew a breath, turning my intended shout into a fit of coughing that doubled the pain and left me gasping.

  The clothing protected it. The sleeves hung over its hands. The cowl was deep, but it didn’t cover the lower portion of its face.

  “Jeff,” I managed, “tell them to aim for the face, inside the cowl.”

  The teleporter disappeared in a flash of light. I couldn’t see where he reappeared; my vision was blocked by the gigantic creature. But a few seconds later another volley of fire, lightning and bullets stormed in, this time all aimed at one spot.

  The scream that came out of the creature this time was of pure agony as it turned its head away. Pushing myself up, trying not to breathe too deeply, I managed to gain my feet. The alpha’s face was turned toward me for the moment, watching me, and I saw with satisfaction that its features inside the cowl were charred and cracked with small embers smoldering where Michael’s fire had taken hold.

  Gritting my teeth, I forced a slow, deep inhale, then yelled, “It worked, keep hitting it in the face!”

  Pushing off, I tottered forward.

  It wasn’t to escape.

  My future was in that trailer, whether I wanted to face it or not.

  I just needed to make sure my friends would be okay.

  The thing watched me take one painful step after another, my right hand out to protect my face. It smiled when I hit the invisible barrier, like it wanted to make sure the box would contain me.