Wylde

by S. C. Mitchell

  The wooden beam drew her attention. Carbon atoms for the most part, and there was enough free oxygen in the air. A little manipulation, some friction.

  The wood burst into flame, lighting the small space.

  “Uh? What?” John jerked awake.

  “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

  He lifted her from his lap, and gently laid her on the floor, then knelt beside her. “Are you okay?”

  His concern touched her heart. “I think so. Nothing hurts. I’m just really confused.”

  How to explain what she was experiencing?

  Her gaze traveled from his eyes, to the firm set of his jaw, then down lower. The tension obvious in his neck, the flat planes of his chest muscle, and the rippling abdominals . . . then lower. “We really need to find you some clothing.”

  “I’m fine.”

  She chuckled. “I’m more worried about me. You’re looking far too sexy for words, Mr. Wylde.”

  John cocked his head. “Seriously?”

  The wolf beside her rolled. “Whoa, whoa, pheromones, people. How’s a wolf supposed to sleep.”

  It could talk.

  “Hello.” She reached out her hand, letting the wolf smell her.

  It gave her knuckles a flick of his tongue. “Hello yourself, beautiful. You taste scrumptious.”

  John huffed. “Piotr.”

  The wolf, Piotr, rose to its feet. “Well she does. Have you licked her yet?”

  Not that she knew of, but the idea had intriguing possibilities.

  Shaking his head, John chuckled. “You must forgive my friend. He’s not used to being with people.”

  She scratched Piotr behind the ears and received a rumble of approval in return. “Well, I think you’re cute.”

  “Hear that, Johnny. I’m cute.”

  “You’re cute, I’m sexy, and she’s beautiful, and that doesn’t change the fact that we’re all trapped in here.” John pushed to his feet, turning to inspect the little fire blazing on the wooden beam’s broken end. “How did you light this?”

  She had no idea. “I think it’s something left over from whatever happened in your father’s lab. I just kind of willed it into lighting. Do you really think I’m beautiful?”

  Had she said that last line out loud?

  He turned, his gaze locking on her eyes. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

  Hell, she probably looked a mess. Locked in that grimy cell, wrapped in those sticky webs, and whatever the hell happened after?

  But she knew that wasn’t what he meant. “I’m probably not the best judge of my own looks.”

  Her eyes were too big, her breasts too small, and she never knew what to do with her hair, which meant it was almost always in a ponytail.

  His golden eyes twinkled in the firelight. “Then I guess you’re going to have to trust me. You are beautiful.”

  Then again, maybe what he thought was all that mattered.

  She stood. “Let me see if I can do anything to get us out of here.”

  John narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess. Whatever happened to you, gave you super strength. You know, that’s really not fair.”

  She chuckled. Maybe not fair, but wonderful if true. She bent to pick up one of the fallen chunks of concrete. She couldn’t budge it. “Nope, no super strength here. Sorry.”

  That would have been nice. If that piece of the Creator had still been inside her, she had no doubts she’d be able to lift that chunk. Strength and power had surging through her then. But what he’d left her with was far more subtle.

  Placing her hand on one of the big concrete slabs overhead, she analyzed its makeup and found the pressure points that kept it suspended, wedged against other debris. “Not this one.”

  Removing it would bring down the ceiling.

  A smaller chunk of cement offered the perfect test. On the atomic level, she removed bonds, remade compounds. I sure wish I’d had this knowledge in high school chemistry class.

  The slab of cement turned to granules wherever she touched it, the small pieces running like sand, spilling through her fingers and down her arm to fall to the floor. In seconds the chunk was gone leaving a gap in the debris.

  John rubbed his chin. “How the hell did you do that?”

  “Damned if I know,” she had to admit.

  She compacted the air molecules around her legs and feet to lift herself up, so she could reach the next chunk of concrete above.

  Sighing, John shook his head. “And you can fly now.”

  It had happened so naturally, she hadn’t even thought about it. “I guess I can. Are you jealous?”

  He chuckled. “Hell, yes.”

  This huge block of cement proved more difficult to remove. Lots of the debris above rested on it. She needed to take out only a section of the chunk, or the whole mass could come tumbling down on top of them. Carefully she carved a large enough hole in it to allow her to move to the next layer without upsetting the delicate balance in the debris pile.

  She was high enough now to sense the air above—the top of the wreckage. From here she could move at an angle to reach the side of the building, where part of the wall still stood. Piece by piece she removed the concrete, wood, and other building materials, changing each of them to sand-sized particles the sifted into the debris pile and out of the way.

  Once the tunnel was long enough she hollered back to John. “Boost Piotr, then climb up behind. We’re almost out.”

  Moments later, Peotr scampered up behind her. His snout prodded her butt and he took a couple of sniffs. “Nice.”

  “Do you mind?”

  John pulled him back. “Piotr.”

  “What? Is that not . . .? I . . .” He seemed completely confused.

  Poor thing. Wolf instincts, but no practical experiences. It wasn’t his fault. “It’s all right. I just need to concentrate to get us out of here.”

  And she did. There was still a lot of debris to get through.

  John snorted. “Buddy, when we get out of here, you and I are going to have to spend some quality time together.”

  Sunlight streamed into the dark tunnel as the last piece of debris filtered across her palm in particles. Dove stepped outside into the crisp winter air to survey her surroundings.

  The complex was little more than a crumpled mound. The building had fallen in on itself. Even the compound’s surrounding walls had sections crumpled to the ground in places. Only one of the two guard towers at the front gate had survived, and that one leaned precariously at an angle.

  Only two vehicles remained in the parking lot, where she’d seen dozens there when she’d been brought in. It looked as if most of the building’s inhabitants had escaped the carnage. Had Leonov? Dr. Wylde? A part of her hoped they had. She had scores to settle with both of them.

  Beyond the ruined section of wall she saw the dense forest. It gave no indication where they were.

  Piotr trotted up beside her. Snout in the air, he took a deep sniff, his gaze on the trees beyond the wall. “Oh, wow. What’s that?”

  “You’ve never been in the forest before?”

  John crouched beside the wolf. “More than likely, he rarely got out of his cage, knowing my father.”

  Piotr took a tentative step toward the trees. “It smells interesting. Is it safe out there?”

  Casting a glance back at the pile of rubble that was once the Red Guard research facility, John shrugged. “Was it safe in there?”

  The poor wolf. John was going to have his hands full with this one.

  A low rumble echoed from the distance and built, as if something was moving toward them. Mechanical clanks and the revving of engines.

  Distant trees rocked side to side, despite the lack of breeze.

&nb
sp; Dove’s new sense powers didn’t extend that far out. Still. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

  John rolled his eyes. “Just don’t tell me to get this walking carpet out of your way, princess.”

  “I would never call Piotr a walking carpet.” But she couldn’t help smiling at the reference. How many times had they watched Star Wars together as kids?

  “Use the Force, Luke.” Piotr’s tail wagged harder. “I loved that movie. Dr. Wylde let me watch it when I was especially good.”

  Her gut fisted at the thought of what might have happened when he’d been bad. Damn the man.

  Judging from the position of the sun, the commotion was approaching from the west. Dove glanced in the opposite direction. “We should probably get out of here.”

  John started moving to the north-east, taking the lead. His walk, almost a lope, yet he stayed standing rather than going to all fours. Perhaps the human in him was resurging.

  The ripple of muscle across his shoulders and back as he moved took Dove’s breath away and drew her gaze down to the round curve of his butt. She’d seen him naked far too often lately.

  “Yeah, we should—” He stopped, sniffing the air.

  Glancing north, then south, he threw up his hands. “We’re surrounded.”

  From the tree-line all around the compound, soldiers in military uniform emerged, rifles at the ready. Commands were shouted in a language Dove didn’t understand.

  The uniform was vastly different than the Compound guards had been wearing. Was this the Russian Army?

  “I don’t think I can do that.” Piotr raised his right paw into the air.

  ~ ~ ~

  In all his years here, Wylde had only picked up a smattering of Russian, and he’d forgotten most of that. “I don’t know what they’re saying.”

  “We’re supposed to stand still and put our hands up.” Piotr pushed up, trying to stand on his hind legs.

  No doubt trained for obedience by Wylde’s father, poor Piotr was trying his best to comply.

  Wylde raised his hands. “I don’t think they mean you. Be a wolf. Don’t speak anymore. They may let you go.”

  Piotr’s gaze traveled from left to right. “Go where?”

  He’d never been out of captivity. He wouldn’t know where to go. What to do.

  Raising her hands, Dove nodded. “Plus, how will we know what they’re saying, if Piotr doesn’t translate.”

  With a thunderous rattle and the stench of diesel fuel, a line of tanks rolled into the compound grounds, taking up positions as more troops slogged out of the forest on all sides. Whatever had transpired here last night must have drawn some serious attention.

  And it looked like Dove, Piotr, and Wylde were the only survivors still around.

  Chapter 15

  All traces of the beings had vanished. Rubble and destruction were all that remained of the surreal events of the previous evening.

  Dove wrestled with how best to explain what had happened here. Otherworldly . . . celestial . . . inter-dimensional beings had visited Earth. She was having a hard enough time wrapping her head around it all. How was she to get the concepts through to someone who didn’t even speak English? “This is so not going to be easy.”

  The guy that looked to be in charge issued a sharp command. One of the other soldiers stepped up behind her and began patting her down, touching her far too often, most inappropriately.

  “Leave her alone.” John, fists clenched, jaw tight, looked ready to kill.

  “Don’t,” she cautioned. They didn’t need any more trouble.

  John being naked, obviously didn’t warrant a body search, and Piotr . . .

  None of the soldiers even came close, though there were multiple firearms aimed at him.

  The thwip, thwip of helicopter blades filled the air as three olive-green craft hovered overhead.

  Then a roaring jet engine joined the cacophony.

  Dove looked up and her heart surged. The Xi-1 was descending vertically to land in the complex’s parking lot.

  Joel’s voice barked commands in Russian over the jet’s external speakers. A murmur of descent filtered through the ground troops. Some rifle barrels were raised to aim at the craft.

  But the troop commander issued a sharp retort as he took a step back. The rifle barrels lowered and the soldiers followed their commander, backing away.

  Moments later, Xi Force strode down the jet’s exit ramp.

  Z-Bot, Shade, Phaze, El Brujo, and a good dozen of Pike’s Rangers led by Paul Tompkins.

  Z-Bot’s bright yellow and red uniform easily drew Dove’s eye, but it was Shade, dressed in gray and black, that led the team. El Brujo had added a maroon cape to his suit, probably at Kayla’s urging. As a group, they looked impressive, if not a little intimidating.

  Kayla was wearing yet another new costume design, though her changes were much subtler this time, more a refining of the previous one.

  “How did they find us?” Not that it mattered. Their friends were here, and Dove doubted even the whole Russian army could keep them from getting home now.

  John grunted. “Yeah, it should be interesting to see how he writes himself out of this plot hole.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Wylde cocked his head, but his gut warmed as his team, his friends, approached.

  Triumph shone in Joel’s eyes even through his costume’s goggles. “Told you.”

  His comment was directed toward Kayla. Her new Phaze uniform now featured two of the white, plastic phase pistols, one holstered at each hip. She locked gazes with Wylde as she approached and handed him a pair of blue jeans. “Here. Please.”

  Joel chuckled. “It is good to see you again, just not this much of you.”

  As Wylde slid into the jeans, Kayla turned her back on him, folded her arms, and harrumphed. “I’ll have you know you just cost me five dollars.”

  Certainly the jeans cost more than that. Hell, nowadays bubble-gum cost more than that.

  “I’ll pay you back.” He was now receiving a salary for being part of Xi Force. Money he wasn’t sure how he’d spend, seeing as how Xi Force also provided his food and housing. What more did a wolf need?

  Joel shook his head. “Oh, no. It’s a wager she’s lost fairly. I bet her you’d lose your uniform somehow before the end of the mission.”

  It was heartwarming that Kayla had taken his side. “Sorry I let you down, Ka . . . Phaze.”

  In the field, Xi Force only referred to each other by their superhero names. His friends had secret identities to protect. He’d almost slipped up, not that any of the Russian soldiers standing around would have probably understood.

  “It wasn’t John’s fault.” Dove, as always, leapt to his defense, breaking the cardinal rule.

  Not that that mattered. He was John Wylde. Everyone just called him Wylde, everyone but Dove. It was also becoming his superhero name. Why not? It wasn’t as if he had anything secret to protect. He even thought of himself as Wylde. It just made things easier.

  “Doesn’t matter. She still owes me five dollars.” Joel . . . Shade continued to chuckle.

  Arms still crossed, Phaze scanned the pile of rubble that had once been a building. “Still, that costume has got to be around here someplace.”

  Shade put a hand on Wylde’s shoulder. “Let’s take this inside the Xi-1. It’s freakin’ cold out here.”

  Eying the Russian troops surrounding them, Wylde cocked his head. “Can we do that?”

  A smug smile spread across Shade’s face. “Believe it or not, we’ve been granted jurisdiction over this entire area. Come on.”

  As they walked side by side toward the massive jet, activity drew Wylde’s gaze. Heather Johnson, Z-Bot’s wife, was supervising the setting up of tables and equipment
in the parking lot beside the Xi-1. With her were Mary Cullen and Jimmy. More of Pike’s rangers hauled and positioned complex-looking scientific devices.

  Mary ran toward Dove and hugged her. “We’ve been so worried about you.”

  Then to Wylde’s surprise, Mary wrapped her arms around him. “You too, ya big lug.”

  He sensed concern . . . genuine concern for him.

  As she pulled back, her gaze dropped to Piotr. “Oh, who do we have here?”

  She knelt, pulled off her glove, and extended her hand toward the wolf.

  Bite her, and you’re dead. Jimmy’s growl had Piotr taking a step back.

  Mary swatted at Jimmy playfully. “You be good. He looks friendly. Or she. Is it a he or a she, Wylde?”

  “This is Piotr, a childhood friend of mine.”

  “Well, any friend of Wylde’s is a friend of mine. Good to meet you Piotr.” She motioned him over.

  “It’s good to meet you too,” Piotr answered, sniffing her hand.

  Mary almost fell over. She gasped, catching herself. “He can talk?”

  ~ ~ ~

  It was much warmer on the Xi-1, and the cushioned seat was more comfort than Wylde had experienced recently. Being back in his old cage, being under the strict eye of the bastard, even briefly, had stirred up so many old feelings.

  One cold evening in his youth, Piotr had offered him one of the blankets from his cage. Wylde had only a thin layer of straw as bedding. The next morning, his father had whipped him and taken the blanket away. He was a wolf, he didn’t need such comforts. That was the bastard’s point of view.

  Here, in Xi Force, he was considered human, they accepted him as a man. Could he accept that himself?

  These people, his friends, had come to rescue him and Dove. That meant something.

  Joel paced the aisle between the seats on the Xi-1. “Whatever happened here last night got the Russian government so spooked, they put an international call out for help. We had plenty of incentive, and that gave us all the license we needed to come looking for you two. And with the Russians actually asking us, Aaron didn’t have a leg to stand on when we took the Xi-1.”