by Drew Hayes
“It matters because Amy is not some powerless human,” Richard snapped. “She is a mage with significant skills and a wealth of experience. There is a small list of things I can think of that can break into a mage’s lab, abduct her, and not leave behind a few pounds of flesh in the process. Knowing it happened at five-thirty tells us it was just after dusk, which expands the list. Whatever took her is powerful, and we’d better hope we figure out what it was before we catch up to them.”
“Oh.” Neil lowered his head and slunk quietly back over to Albert.
“I’ve got her scent,” Richard continued. “Fred, what about you?”
“I think so. What do we do now?”
“We follow it.”
Our group went back to the truck, but when I went to climb in, I felt a massive hand close around my shoulder.
“We’re in the back,” Richard informed me. I hopped into the bed of the truck, then scrambled out a few seconds later when Richard bounded over the side and nearly landed on top of me. The truck dipped down under his weight, losing several inches before rebounding most of the way back up. I climbed back in and found some space near the tailgate while the others entered the front. Bubba turned the keys, and the engine barked harshly to life. Richard pounded once on the roof and pointed south, further down the street we’d traveled to get here. I sniffed experimentally and found that I could still pick out the scent of Amy’s blood in the air.
“Thank you for doing this, by the way,” I said, raising my voice over unmuffled engine sounds and the wind blowing past us. “I didn’t get to say it back at your club.”
“Sally does not have the easiest life. My position makes great demands on my time, and I must leave her alone far more than I would like. Amy is not just a teacher to Sally—she is a friend. She adds a level of familiarity and happiness to my daughter’s life. That is not something I care to see taken away from her. The one who owes thanks is me, for bringing her dilemma to my attention.”
“I think that credit goes to Neil. He’s the one who has been screaming his head off until someone would listen.”
Richard slapped the roof again and yelled “Left!” so loudly that I imagine everyone in the neighborhood suddenly turned that direction in their sleep. He turned back to me as Bubba yanked the wheel and sent us onto a worn, blacktop road. “Yes, her apprentice is very loyal. Not that I’m terribly surprised. Amy has a way with people.”
“Sounds like it.” I drew in some air and confirmed I could still smell her. I probably could have found out where she went by veering around to see when I could and couldn’t smell her, but I had no idea how Richard was able to pin down her direction so effortlessly. It could have been that his sense of smell was that much stronger than mine, or it could have been that he’d practiced his. I had never really been chomping at the bit to expand my vampire repertoire, though since meeting Krystal, my horizons were definitely widening.
“I’ll introduce you, when we recover her,” Richard said. He lapsed into silence save for the occasional thud on the hood and hollered direction. I wondered if Bubba would need the number of a good mechanic to buff out the dents in his roof, then realized Bubba was the kind of person who was perfectly capable of fixing that himself. We were nearing the heart of the suburban community, a large park that was partially obscured by trees. I could make out a winding sidewalk that seemed to wrap around the edge as well as branching off toward the center.
We passed a gazebo situated on a small lake, and it hit me: Amy’s smell was stronger here. Much stronger. Evidently, Richard reached the same conclusion because he yelled for Bubba to find a parking spot. The truck lurched around, eventually coming to the park entrance where a small, wooden sign informed visitors it was closed for the day. It was the kind of sign used in neighborhoods full of nice, law-abiding people who have great respect for the rules. It shattered to splinters as Bubba drove over it.
“We could have just moved it,” I said to no one in particular.
“Therian Emerson is a good man, but not the most delicate.”
“You can say that again.” The truck shuddered to a stop and I hopped out, eager to put a little distance between me and Richard when he exited. The others were still in the truck, so I headed forward and tested my nose’s abilities. I stepped onto the grass, my loafers immediately growing damp. The scent was less intense than it had been in her laboratory. Probably because by the time she got here, the cut had stopped bleeding. I could still find her scent, but it was duller, muted. The damn thing was everywhere, though. If she wasn’t in this park, she had been very recently.
I turned back to relay my findings to the others when I felt something wrap around my leg with incredible speed. There was a rustling sound, a snap of motion, and suddenly I found myself being hauled further away from the parking lot. I flipped over on my back and found my abductor was a long, leafy vine. Breaking it should have been no problem. The issue at hand was that I couldn’t bend forward far enough to reach it. Inwardly cursing myself for not sticking to my morning stretches, I clawed uselessly at the ground, tearing out chunks of wet sod, but not visibly slowing down.
When I was able to glance back, I saw the others hadn’t noticed my kidnapping yet. I opened my mouth to yell for them; however, that was when the vine stopped pulling me on the ground and lifted me into the air. I twirled about, spinning helplessly as I rose. I was very thankful that vampires couldn’t throw up. What I was somewhat less thankful for was that my shifting view treated me to the occasional look at what the vine was connected to.
The creature was twenty-feet tall and resembled a pile of moss with vines and branches sticking out. It had no discernible eyes or face. In fact, the only thing it did have aside from foliage was a mouth. Oh, and teeth. A giant mouth with rows and rows of what looked like very sharp teeth. I know this because as I was dangling in its grasp, that mouth was opening wider and wider. With those contextual clues, even Albert could have figured out what was going to happen next in this process. Now was clearly the time for action, so I resolved myself to do what I did best.
“HEEEEEEELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME!”
6.
Fun physiology fact: the human body is wired to respond in a cacophony of terror when it hears certain sounds. This is a leftover of our hunter days, when the people who didn’t have such instincts wound up dead. It turns out that some of these responses are wired so deep that not even undeath can purge them. This is why, as scared as I was of the moss monster intent on turning me into an amuse bouche, the tremendous roar of an approaching lion cranked my fear levels up to where I was too frozen to even scream. I thought I was as terrified as I could possibly be . . . Then I saw the beast that had made the noise.
This king of the jungle was massive. It was easily bigger than a horse, and I’m not talking about one Bubba’s size. Its huge muscles propelled it forward with astonishing speed. The extra size did nothing to diminish its graceful movements as it leapt from the ground and sank tremendous fangs into the moss monster, or “mosster,” as I would later deem it. The creature let out a wheezing moan. Whatever force of the universe had created it evidently forgot to put in a tongue or vocal chords. The mosster turned its attention on the several-hundred pounds of slashing-and-biting lion that was screwing up its dinner plans.
Not one to waste an opportunity to run away, I swung myself upward and snatched at the vine holding me. It took a few tries before I finally got my hand around the leafy appendage. After that the rest was easy. Vampire strength might not let me lift cars, but I will tear up some shrubbery all day long. My landing was far from graceful. Cats might always land on their feet. However, the same cannot be said for accountants. After a quick scramble up from the ground, I checked on the status of my savior.
The lion had carved away large swatches of the mosster’s outer layer, exposing a sort of tree-root skeleton beneath. Now, for a real lion, that would have been a challenge. People underestimate how dense a live branch can be. This particular ov
er-sized feline was far from normal, its powerful jaws turning the skeleton into splinters as fast as it was revealed.
“Fred, you okay?” Bubba had jogged over while my attention was focused on the strange spectacle. Beneath the brim of his faded ballcap I could see a worried expression on his sizable face.“That thing didn’t get a piece of you, did it?”
“No, thankfully the giant lion managed to intervene before I found out if vampires can survive digestion.” We both turned to watch the battle. Even in the strange parahuman world that we occupied, it was still an odd and captivating show.
“Impressive, isn’t he?”
“That’s definitely a word. So, unless Neil or Albert learned some new tricks, I’m guessing that’s Richard?”
Bubba held up a shirt and a pair of pants that had previously been on the weremayor. “Yup.”
“Why is he so big? I know therians usually turn into larger forms of their animals, but . . . my goodness.”
“Like all animals, you get some that are runts and some that are alpha sized. Richard is one of the biggest around. It’s part of why he can stand over the therian community. We tend to respect people who can kick our ass.”
Richard was definitely demonstrating that talent on the mosster. It had been reduced to little more than a flapping mouth and mulch, even its vine tendrils unable to stop the lion’s relentless assault. As he snapped through one of what could probably be called its legs, I noticed the edges of it were melting away. They smeared along the ground in tiny, green rivers, vanishing after getting a few feet from the source.
Neil was the one who answered my evident look of curiosity, he and Albert finally catching up to the rest of us. Zombies can move quickly when they want to. Nerds who ran LARPs were generally less inclined toward cardiovascular exertion, though. Tugging at the collar around his neck and wiping sweat off his brow, Neil panted for a few moments before commenting on the dissolving mosster.
“Magic,” he said, as though that was all the clarification that was required.
“Augmented construct, actually,” Richard added. He’d shifted back to his human form so rapidly there hadn’t even been time to register it. Bubba coughed with a deep rumble, turned his eyes purposefully toward the ground, and thrust out his hands with Richard’s clothing. The rest of us followed suit, giving the man what privacy we could while he covered himself.
“Amy has taught Sally the basics of such magic. It revolved around creating a mindless servant from the materials at hand. Her lesson merely involved dancing paper figures, though.” It didn’t take long for him to slip back into his pants—it seemed like this was a situation he found himself in with some frequency. He didn’t even bother with the shirt, tucking it into his waistband and leaving his massive torso exposed to the chilly November air. To his credit, Bubba did an excellent job of not staring despite Richard’s objectively impressive physique. The man looked like a living statue from a civilization of oversized warriors. I didn’t play for the same team as Bubba, and I was struck with admiration.
“As much as I like knowing what that was, could someone tell me why it was here? Or better yet, why it decided to eat me?”
“Amy’s scent is strong here. I think we can surmise her abductor is another mage, one who thought to leave traps for anyone who might pursue them. As to its appetite, you were merely the first one to get close. It was fortunate you did. Now we know to be on the lookout.”
“Magical traps and monsters.” I sighed. Not for the first time that night, I wished Krystal was here. Despite being the only human, at least as far as I could tell, in our group, she was the best skilled for this sort of work. Wishing didn’t make things happen, at least not unless genies were real, which actually seemed like something I should check into. But, at any rate, she wasn’t with us, and we still had a kidnapped mentor to find.
“Oh, and thank you for saving me. Almost forgot my manners in the craziness,” I added after a moment.
Richard gave me a sideways glance that I was getting used to seeing from a lot of people. I got the feeling I didn’t mesh too well with other people’s expectations of vampires. That was fine. I didn’t match what I’d expected either. “You are welcome. Amy’s trail leads into the woods. Is everyone ready to pursue?”
“Hang on.” Bubba shrugged off his denim jacket, removed his faded baseball hat, kicked off his boots, and stuffed them all into a backpack he’d brought along from the truck. He kept his grey T-shirt and worn jeans on. However, it was clear he wanted to be able to shift rapidly if required. I bit my tongue at suggesting he might be more effective in his human form. As I’ve already said, Bubba could be a little sensitive about his size. Besides, even if he wasn’t as big as most weresteeds, he still packed a lot of kick into that little form.
Neil walked over while Bubba was stripping down and picked up a pair of sizable tree limbs that were left over from the mosster. Though most of the magical construct had dissolved, and thankfully the mouth was part of that, there was still a pile of grass clippings and branches. Rejoining us, Neil handed one of the limbs to Albert and let the other rest against his shoulder. It seemed everyone was getting ready for a throw down.
We darted into the nearest cluster of trees, Bubba right on Richards (not literal) tail, Albert and I hanging back a bit with Neil. After a hundred yards, it became clear that the mage wouldn’t be able to keep up with us on foot, which was fair, given that two of us had supernatural endurance, and two of us didn’t have to breathe. So, we paused while Albert allowed his friend to climb into piggy-back position. Our pace increased after that, leaving the first cluster of trees and coming out near the gazebo I’d seen from the road.
Richard turned and began following one of the sidewalks, dashing past the small lake and ducking under a lamppost. I wondered what a human observer would take us for if they saw our strange parade. Drug addicts seemed like a solid bet, stoners chasing some invisible target or running from some imagined beast. I missed the days when I would silently judge seemingly crazy people in a park, instead of being one of them.
We ran up a small hill toward another cluster of trees, but as we crested the top, Richard stopped short. It only took a few steps and a slight shift in perspective to see what had brought him up short. Bustling about the border of the treeline were squat, semi-human-shaped creatures about three feet in height. Their color was somewhere between an eggshell and a pasty yellow. Squished faces with beady eyes sat atop their muscular bodies. The large caps on their heads made me think they seemed like pale midgets wearing sombreros.
“Heh, heh,” Albert giggled. “Does anyone else think those look like . . . never mind.”
“Dicks,” Bubba said. “Like walking dicks that have been juicing. I guess that means they started off as mushrooms.”
“Regardless of what they started as, I trust we all know where there are going.” Richard said, bringing us back to the task at hand. Bubba started to pull off his shirt, but the weremayor held up a hand and stopped him. “I don’t think there is any need for that. Half-form should be enough for these pests.”
I’d learned at a very troublesome high school reunion that therians could be full human or full animal, but they also had a step in between. It’s weaker than their full animal shape; however, it has the benefit of getting to hang onto things like opposable thumbs and the ability to speak.
Richard’s change was so rapid that even watching him closely, I barely caught all the details. Golden hair sprouted around his neck and across his entire body, which somehow managed to add several inches in height and tens of pounds of muscle. His face flattened into a cat-like nose set just above a large mouth filled with teeth clearly meant for evisceration. Each of his fingernails elongated sharply, tapering off to a point that I had no doubt was sharp enough to cut flesh. Possibly bone.
Bubba’s hybrid form was somewhat less impressive. Though he did grow wider and a touch thicker, he lost about a foot of height, putting him at eye level with the rest of us.
His arms were longer than before, a thick, shiny black surface running across the back of his hands along the knuckles. Dark brown fur about an inch long seemed to be growing out of every visible area except for his head, which had darkened to a near black. Facially, he looked like someone had run his face through a funhouse mirror, stretching it up and down like flesh taffy.
“You three, stay back,” Richard growled, making Neil and me both leap off the ground in terror. Remember what I said about sounds and genetic wiring? He had crossed the vocal threshold. “This will go faster if we don’t have to work around you.”
Bubba snorted, though whether it was in agreement or derision, I had no idea. Richard clearly did, as he bounded down the hill toward his unsuspecting prey, a significantly smaller, but equally hairy, form only a few steps behind him.
For my part, I crouched down into a squat and tried to get comfortable. It was going to be nice to finally see what winning an easy one looked like.
7.
“Faster. Faster. FASTER!!!!” Neil yelled, clutching Albert’s back in a death grip while swinging back on occasion to check the progress of our pursuers. I had no such need. My excellent hearing had become a curse, informing me of just how close the giant-mushroom men were. It helped that their enormous feet made a truckload of noise with each step.
It seemed that not all constructs are simply made and then bound to their form. I would later learn that a particularly skilled mage can impart special properties to their creations, properties such as, for example, the ability to grow nine-feet taller and proportionally larger when threatened. Of course, that alone would actually have not been an unassailable hurdle, not for Richard and Bubba anyway. No, what had taken them down was the other aspect these mushmen possessed. A sound like pudding being churned came from behind, and I dearly missed the time in my life several minutes ago when I didn’t know what that meant.
“Incoming!” I risked a glance back as I yelled, trying to calculate which one was firing and where to dodge. Two of them had swollen cheeks and closed mouths, as though they were holding their breath. If only that were the truth. I veered left and saw Albert go right, both of us dodging the thick wads of acid that landed where we had been only seconds before. The goo covered a wide patch of ground, hissing and bubbling as it destroyed all it touched. Even the seemingly invincible Richard had looked pretty horrific after getting doused in it, right before he screamed at us to hightail. From Bubba I knew that, short of silver and beheading, there wasn’t much a therian couldn’t regenerate from. I was far less certain about the effects of acid on undead flesh, and I knew for certain it would dissolve Neil down to bone, hence our escape. In sheer panic, we were run into the very trees that the mushmen had been guarding, since I thought their sudden growth spurt would hinder their pursuit. I’d been right, however not by nearly as much as I needed to be.
