Calling the Beast

by K Ryn

  He knew the risks when he asked to come along, Hennesey yelled back. Besides, I wouldn't get too cocky, cop. In fact, I think you're the ones that better back off and give me a clear path out of here.

  That's not going to happen, Jim vowed.

  Oh, no? Think again, pig.

  Hennesey rolled from behind the marble pedestal he'd been using for cover, fired off another volley and then scrambled for the opening to the classroom corridor.

  Blair flinched at the gunfire coming from the display chamber, but resolutely guided Freddy toward the opening. He hugged the inner wall of the corridor, the boy plastered to his left side. Pausing a few feet before the arched doorway, Blair took a deep breath, shot a determined look at the youngster and then sprinted forward, hoping to clear the opening before they were observed.

  They were halfway across when Blair caught a flicker of movement to his right. He had just enough time to shove Freddy forward toward the restroom door before Hennesey barreled into him. Thrust sideways, Blair hit the wall with a startled grunt, the air whooshing out of his lungs. His left shoulder and arm absorbed the worst of the impact with the wall. Hennesey's momentum carried him into Blair, and the grad student found himself gasping at the crushing weight that pressed against his already bruised ribs.

  He slammed his right elbow backward, but Hennesey deflected the blow. The thief gave Blair's shoulder a shove and spun him face-first to the wall. The grad student pressed his palms to the plaster and pushed his weight backward. Hennesey countered that evasive move by grabbing a handful of Blair's hair and slamming his head forward. The anthropologist managed to turn his face to the right, narrowly escaping a broken nose -- a sharp stab of pain spiraled between his eyes as his left cheekbone took the bruising impact instead.

  Blair blinked rapidly, trying to see past the bursts of black and white spots that flared in front of his eyes. As horrifying as that disability was, the sight his clearing vision revealed was worse.

  Freddy was still in the corridor, one hand on the door to the restroom, his eyes round with terror and indecision.

  Run! Blair screamed desperately, bucking against the grasp that held him pinned as the boy disappeared into the restroom.

  Hennesey shoved him into the wall again. Blair gasped in pain as the rough textured surface clawed against his left cheek and shuddered as something hot and smooth slid across the skin under his right jaw. The tip of the thief's gun came to rest just under the point of his chin.

  Call him back, Hennesey hissed.

  No way, man, Blair refused, grimacing as Hennesey's savage grip tore several more strands of hair out by their roots.

  Then we'll just collect the others, the robber threatened.

  You're too late... they're all gone, Blair retorted through clenched teeth.

  With a snarl of rage, Hennesey jerked Blair backward. He released his hold on the grad student's hair, and wrapped his left arm in a choke-hold around Blair's neck. The anthropologist clawed at his captor's arm, trying to free himself, but Hennesey tightened his hold. Blair nearly gagged at the pressure against his windpipe. Black spots flashed in his vision again as the leader of the robbers dragged him toward the opening to the inner gallery.

  Over the raging throb of his own pulse, Blair heard a voice call out Hold your fire! as Hennesey stepped through the archway, the grad student positioned in front of him like a shield. His captor nudged him forward a few steps and then suddenly halted.

  Back off, cop! Hennesey's enraged shout and the sharp pressure against his throat made Blair grimace.

  He automatically closed his eyes and asked for a miracle.

  When he opened them, the Guide found his prayers answered.

  Focused on getting away from the snarling man in the corridor, Freddy flew through the restroom, and was balanced on the groaning wall-mounted platform before he had a chance to think twice about what he was running to. The sight of the huge black man outside the window, reaching toward him, made him pull back in alarm.

  Freddy, it's all right! He's a policeman, called a familiar voice.

  He caught sight of Amanda, only a few steps away and lunged forward into Henri's arms.

  He's got him! He's got him! Freddy shrieked as soon as his feet touched the ground. He grabbed Brown's arm and tugged at it desperately. You have to help him!

  Take it easy son, Henri urged.

  Who needs help, Freddy? Amanda demanded. Ryan?

  NO... Ryan's hiding. It's Blair... One of the men grabbed him... he's got a gun! I saw it!

  He was dismayed by the horrified looks that passed between Henri and Amanda, and incensed by the fact that instead of jumping to his teacher's aid, they ushered him toward the other children, mouthing soothing platitudes.

  He'll be all right, Freddy...

  There are other policemen in the building right now, son...

  You just go and wait with the others where it's safe...

  Convinced that the grownups didn't have a clue, he stormed over to where the rest of the kids were sitting in the grass. He squatted down in their midst, his eyes flashing.

  Blair's in trouble. We need to do something --

  But what can we do? asked Talan.

  The policemen said to wait here, interjected Claire, pulling a tearful Marisa closer.

  Freddy scowled at the girls. He risked his life to get us all out of there --

  Just like the Shaman in the story, murmured Jenny, clutching her sister's hand.

  There has to be something we can do! Freddy argued, pounding his fist into the ground in frustration.

  Too bad we can't really ask our guardian spirits for help, whispered Marisa.

  But we can.

  Freddy's head snapped up and he stared at Kim. What do you mean? he demanded. That stuff about power animals was all just a trick... something to keep us occupied and play along with what Blair and Amanda had planned.

  Was it? Kim answered softly. She closed her eyes and turned her head in the direction of the museum. The panther hunts, she whispered. She opened her eyes and turned back to study the rest of the children. Our guardians helped us. They could help Blair.

  How? Freddy demanded.

  Kim reached out to take the hands of the two children at her sides. The rest of them followed suit, forming a circle of linked hands. Close your eyes, she urged them. See your spirit animal in your mind. Thank it for the service it has rendered in setting us safely beyond the evil's grasp. Think of our teacher and ask the spirits to protect him.

  Let him go, Hennesey, Jim growled. Gun raised and ready, he stepped out from behind the display stand where he'd taken cover.

  Blair recognized the tone of the command and the glint in his partner's eyes as Ellison at his most deadly. The affect was unfortunately lost on his captor.

  I said back off, cop, the thief snarled. Unless you want to be responsible for this punk's brains redecorating the walls of the exhibit.

  The observer lost eye contact with his partner momentarily as Hennesey pressed the barrel of his gun painfully against Blair's right temple, forcing the younger man's head slightly to the side. When he met the pale blue stare again, he tried to project all the confidence he felt in Jim across the space that separated them. He didn't attempt to downplay his fear -- there was no point with his heart pounding like a sledgehammer in his chest. But he felt oddly at peace, knowing that all of the children were safe and that his own life was in the hands of his friend and Sentinel.

  Jim has never let me down... and if it's in his power to get me out of this mess, he will.

  Ellison gripped his weapon tighter and glared at Hennesey, his stony expression revealing no trace of his inner turmoil. At Blair's first gasp of pain he'd surged out of the hallway. Only a fraction of a second had passed before the other officer in the corridor with him had snapped off a covering round. Jim had reached the cover of one of the display cases while the thieves were ducking. One quick scan had told him that one of the injured men was already unconscious. He
'd rolled from one pedestal to the next closest, firing as he came up and the second man had crumpled to the floor. The Sentinel had narrowly escaped a bullet fired by one of the other three as he'd shifted positions again, desperately trying to find a way to reach his Guide.

  A bullet from either his gun or the other officer's had winged one of the others, reducing the number of guns pointed in Jim's direction by one more, but before he could take advantage of the situation, Hennesey had emerged from the opposite hallway.

  The gun pointed at Blair's head had significantly reduced the available options.

  Anxiously searching for a way out of this dilemma that didn't end with his Guide's blood spilled on the carpeted floor, he opened up his senses for an instant. The same strange animal sounds he'd heard earlier shrieked in his eardrums and the Sentinel immediately spun the dials down.

  You're boxed in, Hennesey, he growled, shaking his head to cover his reaction. The front exit is blocked and you're not getting through me. Not with him.

  That's where you're wrong, cop, Hennesey sneered and gestured for his brother to come out of his hiding place. As the younger Hennesey stepped out of the shadows, the blood staining his arm from the bullet wound in his shoulder was easy to see. Gavin's face went red with livid rage and he reacted in the blink of an eye. Screaming a curse, he swung his gun toward Jim and fired. The Sentinel leaped to his right, but not in time to avoid the bullet. The round caught him in the chest, the impact knocking him backward. His Guide's scream of denial was lost amidst the shattering sounds of breaking glass.

  NO! JIM!

  The breathless, horrified shout was wrenched out of Blair as he watched his partner crash backward into one of the display cases. Glass shattered and rained down on the fallen Sentinel in deadly, glittering shards.

  His instinctive forward lunge was countered by a sudden painful pressure against his windpipe that nearly choked him. Vision spinning, head pounding, he tore at his captor's arm, and dug his elbows into the man's ribs, struggling to get free -- to get to his downed partner's side. Hennesey jerked upward with his left arm. The move forced Blair's chin up and almost lifted him off the floor. The black spots that had been dancing before the anthropologist's eyes merged into one flat, black sheet of night. The next thing he knew, he was on the opposite end of the larger exhibit room, being manhandled into the main museum corridors.

  Where Simon was waiting, flanked by the SWAT team.

  Banks took one look at the hostage in Hennesey's grasp and groaned. Frantically he waved to the SWAT commanders to hold their men's fire. Before Simon could issue any further orders or even attempt any kind of negotiation, both Hennesey and one of the men with him started shooting, sending them all diving for whatever cover they could find.

  When Banks looked out from behind a bullet-ridden pillar, he caught sight of the three thieves fleeing down a side corridor, with Sandburg still in tow. Before he could marshal his men, he saw Ellison come running from the exhibit hall. The front of the detective's Kevlar vest bore the evidence of the round that he had taken and his face was bleeding from a number of cuts, but the Sentinel didn't miss a step when he abruptly changed directions and tore off in pursuit of his Guide.

  Barking commands, Simon sent men to deal with whatever cleanup Ellison had left behind. Sending other teams to cover the rest of the exits, he gathered another group and followed his best detective.

  The Sentinel was on the hunt, and so was the panther. He was vaguely aware of the sleek form flickering in and out of the shadows as he tracked his Guide into the depths of the darkened museum, and he welcomed his Spirit Guide's fierce presence. If Jim Ellison had been a man given to flights of imagination and fancy, he would have sworn that other creatures paced him as well. The eerie whispers of sounds he'd heard back in the smaller chamber teased at the edge of his hearing range -- the buzz of a dragonfly, the scrabbling of a lizard's claws, and the roar of a bullfrog. At the edge of his peripheral vision a butterfly drifted along side a leaping grasshopper, accompanied by an army of marching ants.

  But it was the panther he accepted easily, the jungle cat's rage matching his own. Jim slowed his pace as he approached an intersecting corridor. Stealthily, he crept closer, his senses scanning ahead for any sign of his Guide or the men who had taken him. The voices of the ghost-like beasts and insects rose to a fever-pitch once more and he winced, staggered by the vehemence in their cries. In a tidal wave of screaming vengeance, they crashed over him and left him behind.

  Shaking his head, Jim swore he heard the panther cry once more, and then there was silence -- broken only by the sound of his Guide's beating heart. Ignoring the pounding in his skull as his headache clamored for attention, the Sentinel moved quietly forward, following the path of the one bright spirit he was certain existed.

  Saving his strength for a moment when his struggles might actually do some good, Blair staggered along in Hennesey's hold as the thief fled further into the recesses of the museum. The anthropologist knew they'd turned into a dead end -- he was as familiar with the twists and turns of the museum's corridors as he was with the mind-boggling stacks of Rainier's libraries -- but he didn't have the breath to waste on a warning, even if he'd wanted to give one.

  Hennesey realized his mistake quickly and turned to retrace their steps. A whisper of sound ahead of them, halted the thief in his tracks.

  Did you hear that? he demanded, turning to Matthews and his brother.

  Hear what? Matthews asked.

  That noise... it sounded like... Hennesey broke off, uncertain.

  Like what? Ben questioned. I didn't hear anything.

  The anthropologist felt Hennesey's body stiffen as a cold draft gusted across their faces. Blair's eyes sought the source of the strange breeze that carried a hint of rainforest scent and a faint, scrabblng noise.

  There it is again! Hennesey confirmed, his grip around Blair's neck tightening once more. It sounds like some kind of animal --

  The Guide's eyes widened even further and glittered with grateful tears. Not just any animal... a panther... Jim!

  Gavin, please, stop joking around and get us out of here! Ben whined, clutching at his shoulder. I'm gonna bleed to death if you don't get me to a doctor soon.

  Shut up! Hennesey snarled. He nodded toward a closed set of double doors on the right side of the hallway. We'll hide in there until whatever's on our trail goes past.

  Matthews hurried to the doors and opened them. As they swung inward, Hennesey prodded Blair forward into the dark room. Matthews quickly shut the heavy wooden panels and turned the locks. Only one emergency light illuminated the huge space, the yellowish light reflecting off glass cases and making fearful, shadowy monsters out of the innocuous statues and relics.

  Ben cursed as he stumbled over a low standing display just a few feet inside the doors and tumbled to the hardwood floor. Despite the situation, Blair had to stifle a laugh -- falling over something in the dark was usually his run of luck.

  The humor was lost on the elder Hennesey. He abruptly dropped his left arm and spun Blair around, grabbing him by the shirtfront with both hands.

  You think my brother being hurt is funny, punk? Hennesey's whisper was drenched in rage. That cop shot him. The cop you knew.

  Hennesey roughly pulled Blair forward. The anthropologist instinctively tried to shrink back, but the enraged thief held him fast, their faces so close that Blair could feel the man's words beating like blows against his face.

  You warned them, didn't you? Hennesey hissed. Somehow you managed to let them know what was going down. You screwed up a perfectly planned score, you little freak! This job was going to bring me a fortune. Looks like I'm going to have to be satisfied with whatever I can take out of your scrawny hide!

  Hennesey punctuated his threat by shoving Blair backward. The anthropologist backpedaled, arms windmilling as he tried to regain his balance. He came up hard against one of the displays, smacking the back of his head against a flat surface that was cold and def
initely unyielding. Dimly, he felt the muscles across his back scream in protest as his lungs emptied of air. Jarred senseless, his knees gave out and he slid to the cold floor. He'd barely registered on his change of position from upright to seated when Hennesey's gun crashed into the left side of his head.

  Blair toppled over, sprawling on his right side. The world spun and refused to right itself, although he managed -- he thought -- to remain conscious.

  That assumption was tested as the room suddenly seemed to come alive around them. His head was too heavy and filled with shooting pains to raise, but Blair was sure that his eyes were open...

  ... certain that he saw a wolf shape itself out of the shadows and leap for Matthews' throat...

  ... positive he heard Ben screaming in panic that he was being attacked by an army of insects...

  ... convinced beyond a doubt that a black panther leaped from the now open doors and flattened Hennesey to the floor...

  ... confident that it was a leggy preying mantis that sat patiently near his outstretched right hand, its jeweled eyes oddly reassuring, speaking to him in a language that, surprisingly, he understood...

  He closed his eyes and tried not to listen to the screams of the men under attack; the sounds of shattering glass; the snap of breaking bones. He lost himself in the spinning top that the universe had become, not certain whether to hope that this dream was a reality or not...

  And found himself when a familiar voice murmured his name.

  Or rather, his nickname.

  Chief... come on, buddy... open your eyes.

  The Sentinel breathed a sigh of relief when he saw a flicker of movement under his Guide's closed eyelids.

  Kneeling next to Blair with one hand resting lightly on the younger man's left shoulder, Jim spared a quick glance at Hennesey's still form, making sure that the thief hadn't moved. Not that it was likely. Ever. The Sentinel hadn't meant to kill. When he'd burst through the doors and seen Hennesey bending over his Guide with a gun, he'd lunged forward, intending to knock the man aside. His momentum had carried both men into the display that Blair lay next to. There had been a sickening crunch of bone when Hennesey's head had struck the stone base. Jim had heard the last breath leave the thief's lungs as he scrambled off his back. Tight-lipped with regret, he turned his attention back to his partner, whose eyes were still shut.