They are fire breathers, you must hide! Now! Find the Order if they break me.
Meino scrambled out of his sleeping bag and brought it and his backpack to an old freezer. He managed to squeeze behind it and some old boxes. From there, he listened and tried to keep his breathing even. He looked at his watch, hoping the sun would set soon, so Burkhart wouldn’t be vulnerable.
“Oh, God, Burkhart, I promise, if they don’t find us, I’ll let you fly me. I’ll let you fly me anywhere,” Meino whispered but gasped and covered his mouth when he heard someone smash the window in the door to the store. Glass crunched under the soles of shoes. It sounded like more than one pair, and Meino strained to hear them, hoping they’d do a quick sweep and leave.
“The Gargoyle is sitting here,” a man said in English, and Meino’s hope dwindled.
“Definitely one of them, then. How else would something that size get in here?”
“Get the sledgehammers.”
Fear and anger boiled in Meino, but what the hell could he do if they had sledgehammers? He looked around, finding only litter and crates with empty bottles. There were shelves lying in a heap. Metal shelves. The bottles. Meino’s head worked out a strategy. Against sledgehammers, the loose plan was a fool’s hope, but he was not leaving Burkhart. He could buy time—hopefully enough for the sun to set and release Burkhart to defend himself.
But he also had to secure the books. His eyes scanned the area, and he finally found a loose maintenance panel under the freezer. Who’d look there? Meino took the books out of his bag and stuffed them through the small opening. He then shuffled across the floor, trying not to cough as he caused dust to rise and tickle his nose and throat as his shallow breathing was far from as calm as he wanted it to be. Maybe someone with more experience at being in danger could control stuff like that, but Meino couldn’t—he couldn’t even get his hands to stop shaking.
Still somewhat shielded by the old inventory, Meino ended up at an angle behind Burkhart along with the bottles and shelves. He peeked out, seeing two men with sledgehammers coming at Burkhart.
Leave, Meino, please hurry.
Meino ignored the begging tone to his friend’s voice and stood, grabbed a bottle in each hand, and hurled them at the men nearing Burkhart. “Get the fuck away from him!”
“What the hell?”
The men jumped and covered their heads, as Meino hurled bottle after bottle at them. Meino emptied the first crate, grabbed it, and hurled it in the same direction, hitting one of the men on the hip.
The man cried out in pain, and both men finally took cover in the nearest aisle.
Meino could still see them, since all the shelves were empty, and he watched to make sure they didn’t split up.
They did—one tiptoed to the end of the aisle. He’d be coming up behind Meino soon.
“Hey, who are you? Why are you throwing things at us?” the one crouching in Meino’s end asked. Probably to keep Meino’s attention away from the other guy.
“Leave my Gargoyle alone,” Meino sneered, gripping the bottlenecks a bit tighter.
“Oh, you know...”
“Yeah, I know, and I know you want to destroy him,” Meino sneered. “I won’t let you.”
“If you knew what he really was, you’d let us.”
“If you knew what he really was, you wouldn’t want to break him,” Meino countered angrily, his focus darting between the man’s position and where he expected the other one to pop up at any minute.
“What do you mean we wouldn’t want to? How did you come to be with him?”
“He—” What the hell was he supposed to say? That he made him come alive? That would certainly draw the men’s attention on Meino but not in a good way. He couldn’t tell them about the Order, either—not if he wanted their help to hide Burkhart.
“What made him come to you, what does he want?” the man continued.
Out the corner of his eye, Meino saw movement. He turned to hurl a bottle at it, hitting the corner of a shelf, and the bottle exploded into tiny pieces. Someone cried out in pain, and Meino felt a surge of the moment’s success.
But then all hell broke loose. The guy who’d been talking to him, ran around the rack, the sledgehammer raised over his head, and roared as he ran for Burkhart. Meino raised a bottle to throw at the man, but the other one showed himself and ran toward Meino.
Meino tossed the bottles in his hands at the one closing in on Burkhart, hitting him in the face with one of them. It didn’t break, but it gave an odd clonk, and the guy reared backward, dropping the sledgehammer. Meino turned to the guy attacking him and flung more bottles at him. Some hit, some flew past their target, and a then Meino was out.
“Shit!”
Run, little one, run!
“No,” Meino roared, then grabbed the crate and swung it at the attacking guy’s head.
The sound of something hitting stone reverberated in his ears, and Meino turned his head in time to see the first guy pull back the sledgehammer to hit Burkhart again. Meino lost interest in the guy coming at him and grabbed a shelf as he ran toward the man hitting Burkhart.
A pained cry rang out in Meino’s head as the sledgehammer impacted on the side of Burkhart’s chest again. As the man pulled the sledgehammer back to strike for the third time, Meino saw a cobweb scar on the stone surface.
“Don’t hurt him! Please, don’t hurt Burkhart!” Meino ran at the man with the shelf held high, and he swung it, almost hitting his mark. Arms wrapped around his torso and pulled him back, making him miss his mark by mere centimeters, and the shelf slipped from his grasp and clattered across the floor.
“Get over here!”
The sledgehammer dropped to the ground. Meino looked up, seeing a fist coming at him. He kicked wildly and twisted in the arms holding him. His right foot impacted with something, and the fist had lost most of its momentum by the time it connected with Meino’s cheek.
“Hold him still!”
“I’m trying, but this little fucker is strong!”
Yeah? Meino gave it his everything and managed to turn in the man’s grip and punch him in the side of his stomach. The guy puffed, and Meino drew back to hit him again. Something collided with Meino’s kidney, and he realized his mistake—he’d turned his back to the other guy. Another hit landed, and Meino turned to be able to protect himself. He ended up right back in the first situation—being held back by one, and he was open to hits because his kidney burned and the pain clouded his mind.
The pain coursing through his body meant he was no longer as strong as the guy had complained about, and all he heard was Burkhart cry out in fear. Then the sound of Meino’s nose breaking got all of his attention.
More punches landed, both on his face and on his body, knocking the wind out of him.
He’d never been much of a fighter, and neither his body nor his mind had any idea how to process the pain he was in. He could handle slamming his fingers or scraping knuckles so they bled, but the pain he was experiencing now was in a whole new league.
He finally collapsed in the grip of the one holding him, and he felt himself be tossed aside. Some help he was. He stumbled around in pain and tried to get up, breathe properly, or just make his limbs cooperate. And for some reason, he then noticed he had to piss.
“I’m sorry, Burk,” Meino whispered nasally. Despite the grogginess, he wondered why he hadn’t run and called the police about a break-in to have them come and stop the men.
A shot rang out, and Meino curled in on himself, waiting to feel pain. But he didn’t. Instead, he heard the sledgehammer hit its mark and... something was off about the next sound. The other guy screamed something, and another shot rang out, followed by an odd thump.
“Confirm two,” a lady said in a calm voice, and Meino hoped it was the police. She sounded authoritative, and confirm was some official way of talking.
Meino’s brain kicked into gear, and he pulled himself closer to Burk
hart.
“Stay still,” the woman warned.
Why would she do that? Couldn’t she see he was a victim? “Burk. What happened?”
Stay still, little one, it is over. She is of the Order I serve.
“Please, help us,” Meino said, but he stopped moving like she’d asked.
“Us?” she asked.
Meino heard her walk closer. He pried a sore eye open, but it only brought a lot of pain. Tears and snot still caked his face and made it impossible to see, and he tried to blow some of it out his nose. That just hurt worse, and his face pounded to the beat of his heart. He was pretty sure swelling around his eyes was part of it too, and not just the aftermath of a newly broken nose.
“Don’t blow, you’ll just increase swelling. Who are you?” the woman asked.
Tell her I serve the Order. Tell her who I am, Meino.
“Burkhart serves the Order.”
“The Order? Who’s Burkhart? Who’re you?” She wasn’t German, he finally realized when her accent registered, but he couldn’t place it.
“My name... Burk?”
Tell her your name, little one, or are you too hurt? Meino, are you hurt? Oh, no.
“I’m Meino, I’m fine.” Meino tried to answer both at the same time, but his head felt like he’d been in a car wreck. “Burkhart is the Gargoyle. He serves the Order you serve.”
The woman remained quiet, but Meino heard her walk away from him. He tried to move again, because lying on the floor hurt. Scratch that, moving hurt worse.
Help.
“Burk? You okay? Burkhart?” Meino ignored his body and squinted in the Gargoyle’s direction while trying to get his limbs to move around the pain in his ribs and face.
“It’s okay,” the woman said more softly. “He’s asking us for help.”
Meino jerked as someone grabbed him.
Careful.
“We’re gonna help you.” The guy talking sounded German.
Meino relaxed a bit and tried to assist them in moving him. He then noticed they moved him away from Burkhart. “No, Burkhart, to Burkhart.”
Relax, little one. They will clean your wounds.
“But they can clean my wounds over by you.”
“Wait, you can communicate with the Gargoyle?” the woman asked, sounding surprised.
“Of course. By the sound of it, so can you.”
“Holy shit,” the woman muttered in English.
They can’t hear me the way you can, Meino. Select words can make it through to them. Once I become animated, we can communicate.
“Bring him to the Gargoyle and clean him up there,” the woman ordered once again in thick accented German. “I’ll secure the perimeter.”
“Yes, Ms.”
Meino leaned up Burkhart’s leg and reached back to grab his hand while the faceless people helped clean the muck off his face.
“I’m gonna have to straighten your nose,” a guy announced. “It’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch.”
“Got any painkillers?” Meino asked, feeling like a wuss.
“No.”
Meino’s breath hitched, and he grasped harder at Burkhart’s steady hand. “Can’t I go to a hospital?”
“Why are you here, Meino?”
“We’re...”
The fire breathers look for you. They are not alone. We need to leave, soon.
“Fuck... okay, okay, do it quickly. When does the sun set?”
In half an hour.
“Okay, half an hour... let’s go.” Meino tried to gather all his bravado and strength, but at that very moment, he felt neither strong nor brave. He felt stupid for having gone after people armed with sledgehammers with nothing but bottles, but at least Burkhart was fine. Oh, God, he hoped Burkhart was fine, because the throb in his nose and the tears, snot, and swellings didn’t allow him to see much, but he could still see the cobweb scar in his mind where the sledgehammer had impacted with Burkhart’s ribs.
A blinding pain shot through Meino’s nose, and he screamed, clutching at Burkhart.
“There. It’s in place. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Get me a dust trail ready for ground transport,” the woman said in English, and a voice answered through some electronic device. “How the hell are we going to move him? He’s not even on a pallet.” She was American. Meino was sure of that.
Meino tuned them out, focusing solely on the less than gentle hands cleaning his wounds and poking his body and the male voice asking if this or that hurt. That one was easy. Everything hurt.
“Got it,” the woman said. “We move in an hour. We have a team coming in and need to get these two to a safe location.”
“Hey, Heino... Meino?” the man asked.
“Meino,” he croaked, wondering if any of the newcomers were ever going to introduce themselves.
“Meino. My name’s Hardy, and we’re gonna help you. Can you open your eyes a bit?”
Meino attempted what the man asked him, finding the blurry figure crouching in front of him becoming clearer. Finally, he could see the man smiling at him with a worried frown. Behind him stood a man and a woman.
“He’s gonna be okay,” Hardy said. “Need to see a doctor, so call one in to be there when we get to the safe house.”
Burkhart squeezed Meino’s hand, and he tried to sit up so he wouldn’t tip over when Burkhart stood and moved the leg Meino was resting against. Once Burkhart moved, Hardy yelped in surprise and fell backward, staring.
“Holy shit, he’s animated!” the woman exclaimed.
Burkhart gently shuffled Meino into his arms and lifted him, and Meino wrapped his arms around his neck.
“Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” Meino asked.
“The spell you cast to animate me also makes me harder to break, and the shift in my molecular condition powered by your soul has healed the mark.”
“Thank God,” Meino said, clutching him closer. He felt so relieved he didn’t know what to say.
“You said I could fly you now. Will you still let me?”
“Yes. As long as you stay okay, I’ll let you fly me anywhere. Well, I’d hate crossing an ocean.”
Burkhart chuckled, and the deep rumble soothed Meino’s fear. “That would be problematic once the sun rises.” Burkhart caressed Meino’s back as he held him, and Meino felt safe again. He then remembered that he’d hidden the books.
“The books, I hid them under the freezer.”
“I will get them, Meino. Relax here.” Burkhart put Meino down in something, and since the majority of the muck and snot was gone from his face, Meino noticed he’d been placed inside a refrigerator case.
“So that’s how you got a Gargoyle into a store,” the woman said.
“And talk to it. You aren’t from the Order, are you?” Hardy asked, leaning against the edge of the refrigerator case.
“No. Burkhart told me about you. I mean, about allies who would help us hide the spell.”
“You have the spell to animate Gargoyles?” Hardy exclaimed.
“Yeah, how else would he be with me?”
“Where is it? We need to secure it,” the woman said.
“Here,” Burkhart said, and Meino saw him stuff the books into the backpack again. He then placed it next to Meino who grabbed it close to protect his books. Which seemed odd because, according to Burkhart, the people were there to help protect the magic. And they had just...
“What happened to the men?” Meino asked.
“We shot them to save you,” the woman said matter-of-factly.
“They’re dead?” He was sitting in a refrigerator only feet away from dead bodies? Meino’s heart sped up, and he wanted to leave. He wanted to get out of there. Yeah, they were on an adventure, and yeah it helped keep his mind off crappy food and cold and hard surfaces to sleep on, but dead people? No way.
Burkhart gently pulled Meino closer, shushing him. “I won’t let anything happen to you,
and neither will the Order. What you keep safe is for us to keep safe, too. We want to aid you in it. I’m so sorry I failed you.”
Failed? The dead bodies were forgotten.
“You didn’t fail me,” Meino said, scrambling to get up. “I animated you, so I’m gonna protect you, too.”
Burkhart reached to assist Meino in getting up, and Meino managed to climb over the side to stand on the floor again.
“Let’s get to the safe house,” Hardy said. “Burkhart, how much do you weigh?”
“I don’t know.”
“There’s a freight scale out back. Maybe it still works,” the third of the Order members said. Meino still hadn’t heard his name mentioned.
“Go see,” the woman said. “Hardy, go with him. I don’t want these fuckers sneaking up on our asses.”
“There are none with ill intentions around us,” Burkhart said.
“Oh, good. Still, paranoia is my most trusted friend.”
“A good friend of us all,” Hardy said, following the third from the room.
“I’m sorry for switching languages all the time,” the woman said in her thick accented German.
“I speak English,” Meino said in English.
“Oh, good, because my German is a bit broken. My name’s Ms. Stephanie. I’m an operative in the Order, meaning it’s my job to keep assets safe. I know that your... Burkhart is more than capable of that, but will the two of you follow us? The spell you’ve come across is very important to safeguard. Our Order guards rare and harmful magic like that from careless use.”
“Burk?” Meino asked.
“We should go with them.”
“Okay.”
“Hey, the freight scale works!” Hardy shouted.
“Let’s go see if you fit in the van,” Ms. Stephanie said.
“What about the bodies? Won’t we get caught by the police?” Meino asked, hating that his voice sounded so high-pitched.
“No. Before we leave, other operatives will be here,” Ms. Stephanie said as she led Meino and Burkhart to the freight scale out back.
Burkhart stepped onto the scale, and they watched as it counted out the two hundred thirteen kilograms.
“Hmm,” Meino huffed, surprised. “That’s less than I expected.”
Gargoyle Rising Page 13
