by K X Douglas
The squadron swerved in the distance, flying with perfect synchronicity as they turned to face Peter’s group head-on.
With one mighty beat of its wings, the creature surged upward several feet. It made the move just in time to dodge the missile that raced past.
Peter looked back and tried to mentally trace the missile’s trajectory, hoping that it wouldn’t detonate part of the highway.
We should settle this soon. I don’t want to be responsible for more collateral damage, but they seem so dead-set on apprehending or killing me that they’d risk getting civilians involved.
An explosion erupted from a patch of empty prairie where the missile struck, beyond the road and away from anyone.
Heidi’s right. Our lives are in danger. Fuck the moral high ground. Pacifism in this situation will only cause unnecessary deaths.
Peter pulled his hoodie over his head and tucked it underneath him. His tank top was next.
“Peter, what are you doing?”
“I’m going to take them out. If we let this continue any longer, we risk leading those jets into the city. You saw what those missiles can do.” He paused to retract the tentacle that was holding on to her. “Hold on tight, babe. I’m gonna jump off. Just focus on getting back home safe.”
“No! You aren’t going to do everything by yourself again! We’ve been over this!”
“I’m not doing this by myself. I have the rest of you with me. We’ll be fine. I promise I won’t let anybody die.”
Peter leapt off of the beast and extended a pair of large, leathery wings from his back. He fell for several dozen feet before he managed to stabilize himself.
A few seconds later, the planes diverted their course. In all likelihood they thought that someone had fallen off for a brief moment.
There’s no way I can match their speed. I have to wait for them to come to me. At one point or another they have to fly past. The only problem is I don’t know if one of those missiles will kill me or not, and I don’t feel like finding out.
He signalled for everyone else to gather around him.
“Peter, what are you doing?” Isabelle asked.
“Heidi’s exhausted after casting that spell,” he replied. “She’s going to go on ahead. I’ve decided I’m going to take out this squadron before someone else gets hurt on our account.”
“So you mean you’re going to kill the pilots?” Victoria asked.
“If I have to.” Peter grew a pair of long, bony spikes on the ends of his arms. “Cover me. They’re coming.”
Their steeds scattered in different directions away from Peter, and he watched as the planes turned in the distance. Now facing towards them, they each fired a missile towards Peter.
Here it comes. Moment of truth.
Every instinct told him to try and dodge, but he looked over his shoulder and tried to estimate the missiles’ trajectories; if they missed him, there would be a chance that at least one of them would destroy part of the highway. Having resigned himself to grievous injury or possibly death, he could only hold his arms out in front of himself.
Several of the missiles exploded before they reached him, raining shrapnel down on the earth.
They must have used magic to detonate the missiles before they reached me. The planes have to be close to running out of ammunition by now.
Two of the missiles were not destroyed, and Peter waited for them to reach him. They exploded, and he felt pain like never before as the conflagration consumed his entire body. Unable to find the strength to flap his wings, he began to plummet towards the ground.
But he was still alive. Of that he was certain. He hit asphalt and lay there for nearly a minute, too sore and exhausted to move.
Traffic stopped or veered out of the way to avoid running him over, and it soon jammed. People ran out of the nearest vehicle, perhaps thinking him to be human until they saw the wings protruding from his back. Screaming, they ran back to the vehicle and slammed the door shut.
Peter rose to his feet, clutching his head in one hand.
“Is…is this what hangovers feel like for humans? Everything’s throbbing. I feel like I’m going to melt.”
Everyone flew down and landed around him, completely blocking off the highway. They all looked pale and haggard, as if they hadn’t slept in a day or two. Vehicles began to reverse or even drive off of the rode to get away from the immense reptiles that stood in front of them.
“Peter, holy fuck!” Eric shouted. “You just got hit with a missile!”
“I know you aren’t human, but how are you still alive?” Serena asked. “That looked like it could kill pretty much anything.”
“To be honest, I’m as surprised as the rest of you,” he said. “I’ve never really tested how much punishment I can take before. I legitimately wasn’t sure if I’d survive that.”
The planes flew overhead, the roar of the engines briefly drowning out all other sounds. Peter looked up at them and saw that they appeared to be almost out of missiles.
He spread his wings and ascended to match their altitude.
Let’s get this over with.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Peter flew as fast as he could, chasing after the planes in hopes of an opportunity to grab on to one of them. He heard the reptilian things flying behind him and signalled for them not to follow any further.
The squadron turned around to approach him, seemingly preparing for one final attack.
In response, he flew higher, trying to coax them into aiming at an upward angle. He watched a missile detach from the wing of one of the planes - the last one it was carrying - and begin flying towards him.
Hopefully, these things will eventually explode in midair.
He dodged by bending his body out of the way mid-flight. It flew past and exploded in the distance, far enough from the highway that injuries were highly unlikely. Mentally tracing the flight paths of the planes, he extended his arms downward, hoping that the oncoming jet would be unable to avoid flying right into them.
I wish I had even the slightest idea how to fly one of these things. Oh, well.
As he predicted, the jet collided with him. In an instant, he was flattened against the top of the jet and dragged along with it. He managed to reform himself into a humanoid shape while holding on to both wings as it gained speed.
The pilot obviously realized what was going on and started to panic as the plane began slowing down and wobbling off course.
Peter formed claws on his hands and raked at the wings. He wasn’t able to do much at first, but eventually he managed to tear into them. He picked apart one of the wings bit by bit until the plane started to swerve and fall.
It started a nosedive towards the earth, and when it crashed it erupted in flames. Peter’s skin started to bubble and char, but it was nothing compared to one of the missiles.
Standing up from the burning wreckage, he examined himself. The fire had incinerated his clothing, leaving him naked yet again. Immediately he walked over to what remained of the cockpit; it had broken up in the crash, but the pilot’s body was mostly intact, if thoroughly burned.
I guess I should make sure he’s really dead.
With a few blows from a bony fist he broke through the glass. It shattered inward, coating the pilot’s body but not piercing through his uniform. Peter climbed partway into the cockpit, squatting over the now-unconscious pilot.
“Forgive me,” he whispered.
He lifted the pilot’s helmet off and, extending a spike of bone from his hand, impaled the man through the cranium. The feeling of human brain matter squishing against his hand repulsed him, and he began shaking uncontrollably.
I…I don’t know…I don’t know if I can do that again. There are, what, ten more? Please, just leave us alone.
He pulled his hand out of the man’s skull and shook the errant chunks of brain matter off before jumping out of the wreckage. Spreading his wings again, he flew towards the others who were still in the sky. Landing
on the one being ridden by Lachlan and Isabelle, he took several deep breaths and tried his best to avoid hyperventilating.
“Peter, did you just…take out a fighter jet?” Lachlan asked. “Like, with your hands?”
“I guess I did.”
“Peter, are you okay?” Isabelle asked. “You’re shaking.”
He didn’t look her in the eyes. He couldn’t.
“I’m tired of this. Please, let’s just go home.”
“Alright,” Lachlan said. “It looks like they’ve got the message, anyways. I don’t think they were planning on losing two pilots and two jets trying to stop a routine prison break.”
The flight back to campus was simple, as the air force was no longer attempting to kill them. When they landed in the small cul-de-sac where their dormitory row houses were located, Peter stepped down from the beast without a word.
The door to his dorm was still on the floor; it hadn’t been moved since it was kicked down.
“Hey, Peter, why don’t you stay at our place for a while?” Eric asked. “It’s probably going to take a bit for them to repair that door.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” he said monotonously.
They dismissed their otherworldly steeds, causing them to vanish in puffs of smoke. For the next hour or so they helped Peter move most of his valuables over to the other dorm room. Once they were finished, Tadhg and Silas said their goodbyes before climbing into the latter’s car and driving away.
Those who remained surrounded Peter and enclosed him in a giant group hug, leaving him at a complete loss for words.
“You guys, uh…” he said, trailing off.
“It’s alright,” Victoria said.
“Yeah, it’s nothing,” Lachlan said. “We know you’d do the same for any of us.”
The hug broke off, and Peter made eye contact with each of them in turn.
Wait, is this one of those times where I’m supposed to be crying? How do I cry? I have no idea how human eyes work.
“Thank you, everyone,” he said. “I really appreciate it.”
“So, who else is skipping class today?” Lachlan asked.
Slowly, a sea of hands rose up.
***
Peter spent most of the day hanging around with Eric and Lachlan. They made a conscious effort to avoid any exposure to news media, out of the expectation that it would be dominated by coverage of the morning’s prison break.
“God, I’m so behind on homework right now,” Eric said as he sat down at the kitchen table. “With all the shit that’s been happening lately, I don’t know if I’ll be able to pass my classes.”
“Can I help?” Peter asked. “I’ve managed to keep up, I suppose.”
Eric adopted an expression of complete befuddlement.
“I don’t sleep, remember?” Peter said.
“Right,” Eric said.
“So, what do you need help with?”
“Just digesting all of the reading that I’ve missed in our psych class. I haven’t been keeping up and I’m worried that the final will really fuck me over.”
***
That night, while everyone else slept, Peter meditated on the living room floor.
One of the bedroom doors opened up, and Lachlan stepped into the hallway. He walked over to the fridge and opened it, light from within spilling out over the room.
“Can’t sleep?” Peter asked.
“Haven’t slept,” Lachlan replied as he pulled a can of pop out from the fridge. “Can’t stop thinking about what just happened…and what’s coming.”
“You aren’t alone there. I’m sure we’re all preoccupied with it.”
Lachlan walked into the living room and sat down on the couch.
“I know, I know,” he said as he cracked the can open and set it on the table. “I’m sure the others are just as fucked up about it as I am, but they’re just hiding it better.”
Peter stood up and climbed onto the couch, sitting right beside Lachlan.
“I mean, it’s only the possible end of the world,” Peter said. “That’s a perfectly normal thing to be anxious about.”
Lachlan burst out laughing, leaning over and shutting his eyes tight as he wheezed.
“Thanks, dude. I needed that. Fuck, I shouldn’t have been complaining about my issues to you of all people.”
“No, no, it’s okay! Go ahead and complain!”
After nearly a minute of ceaseless laughing, Lachlan caught his breath.
“Ugh, I’m sorry,” he said.
Peter slid closer and extended an arm over Lachlan’s back.
“It feels like it’s been a long time, but it’s only been, what? Six, seven weeks?” Lachlan said. “What a long year this semester’s been, eh?”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Peter said. “Even living as long as I have, it feels like it’s been a long time since I moved here.”
“Peter, how old are you, anyways?”
“I legitimately have no idea.”
“Well, what’s the first thing you remember?”
“Oh, let me think. I remember watching these lizard-like things walking out of the ocean onto land. I think they were the first things born on earth to walk, period. No idea how long ago that was, but I remember it pretty vividly. It wasn’t nearly as cool as you think.”
“Come on, now you’re just fucking with me.”
“Nope. I swear, I was there to see that. I was kind of excited for an excuse to get out of the ocean myself. Back then it was really boring down there, not like now. Humanity still hasn’t really explored the ocean very much, right?”
“Peter, holy shit. Just…holy shit.”
“Yeah, it must be hard to imagine at your age. Most of it kinda flew by, though, until humans showed up. That’s when things got interesting. The Old Ones actually started paying attention to Earth, because they had worshippers there.”
“Have you ever actually seen any of the Old Ones?”
“I don’t think so. Other than the one time when Tadhg and Professor Carter apparently blew up Hastur, I don’t know when the last time one of them was summoned to Earth. Comparatively speaking, I don’t know much more about them than any of you.”
“That’s a sobering thought.”
“Don’t worry, Lachlan. We have a plan, and a back-up plan. It’s all going to turn out all right in the end.”
“All we have to do is kill Kevin. All we have to do. Sounds easy, right?”
“I…well, I killed someone today. Yesterday. It wasn’t something I relished, but I’m pretty sure I can do it one more time.”
Lachlan extended an arm around Peter and leaned in.
“I’m sure you’ll be able to manage it somehow.”
“I’m just worried about what kind of security the festival’s going to have. Between Tadhg shooting up Mabon, the attacks on the academy, and two prison breaks within the span of a month, everyone’s probably paranoid.”
“Peter, we fought the goddamn military and won. What the fuck else could they throw at us?”
“I suppose you’re right.”
For a moment they sat there in silence with only the sparse moonlight illuminating the room. Lachlan leaned in closer, and Peter kissed him.
The kiss lasted for over ten seconds, at which point they broke apart and stared each other in the eyes.
“You know, I’m supposed to be sleeping right now,” Lachlan said. “We’ve got classes tomorrow.”
“I mean, I know a way to tire you out,” Peter replied. “If you’re up for it, that is.”
“Sure, why not? I’ve already stayed up half the night. What harm is there in a quickie?”
Lachlan led Peter by hand to his bedroom. They shut the door softly behind them, trying not to wake Eric.
***
Peter spent the night in Lachlan’s arms, halfway shifted into his shoggoth form. A few hours after dawn, Lachlan began to stir.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey. Sleep well?”
“Well en
ough.” He sat up. “Yeah, I think I got enough sleep. Were you in bed with me the whole time?”
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to do that, you know. I know you have classes today, too.”
“It doesn’t take me much time to get ready. I just change clothes.”
“Do you, uh, shower? Like, normally?”
“I don’t normally shower, no.”
“Well, you might want to hop in before going to class. Sex kind of stinks.”
“As I’ve learned.”
The next day, classes continued as normal, although the morning’s prison escape was the talk of the town. Peter overheard students spreading various rumours about aliens, Area 51, the Illuminati, and other conspiracy theories.
He saw the occasional uniformed RCMP officer wandering campus, and he tried his best to stay out of sight whenever they were near.
It’s times like these that I wish I had a more diverse wardrobe. The authorities might recognize my usual outfit. Maybe I could borrow some of Eric’s clothes? I don’t really need to change my shape at all to fit in them.
After classes were over, Peter stopped by his dorm. A pair of contractors were reattaching the door to the frame. He spared a glance past them, hoping to see that none of the things that couldn’t be moved to Eric and Lachlan’s dorm were stolen, and he was relieved to see that that was the case.
He entered Eric and Lachlan’s living room and sat down on the couch. Eric was in the middle of cooking dinner. To Peter, the food definitely smelled like food.
“You don’t eat, right?” he asked.
“Don’t have to,” Peter replied.
“Were you comfortable last night?”
“Yes, thank you for asking. We, uh, we didn’t keep you up, did we?”
Eric looked at him and blinked.
“No, I slept through whatever you two did,” he said. “By the way, I saw that they got to repairing your door super quick. Just in time for inspections.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
“When are the inspections happening?” Peter asked.
Eric stopped in his tracks and looked at Peter as if he had suddenly grown an extra head.
