by Ryan Attard
“Weird.” I took another bite, and could swear that the orange tasted better than before. The warmth in my stomach increased. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just deeply satisfying. “But handy to have around,” I commented.
Tenzin opened his mouth to respond, but held his silence. He nodded toward something behind me and pulled me backward, farther under the shade of the wall.
“No, you listen to me.” The angry voice came from the direction of the market. A short man wearing an apron yelled at his cellphone while sweat trickled down his forehead. “I ain’t going inside that goddamn place before you call pest control. That thing attacked me. It’s the size of a truck now. Call them animal people or somethin’. No, you listen to me, dammit. I ain’t getting no crates of ham. Probably why the goddamn thing got so big in the first place. Call pest control or something, or I ain’t opening that warehouse ever again. Let the damn thing rot in there for all I care.” He snapped his phone shut and fumed. The man wiped his brow and shifted his weight uncomfortably.
“Wait here,” said Tenzin with a smirk.
I watched as he walked briskly toward the man, who had his back turned to Tenzin. The Asian collected his power, and I remembered his overwhelming energy when he summoned the Buddha. The effect lasted only a second, and a familiar Alsatian dog manifested beside Tenzin. I smiled as I watched him talk to the stall manager and bow slightly to him. The man kept talking to Tenzin, but bent down to pet the dog, which was acting docile and goofy, tongue hanging out and huffing happily. The man exclaimed “Thank you!” to Tenzin and shook his hand enthusiastically. Tenzin bowed curtly and walked away.
“We have a job to do tonight,” he said.
“Yeah,” I paused. “So, is convincing people to trust you considered an act of God?”
Tenzin let out a chuckle. “Let’s call it divine intervention,” he said as he glanced at the dog. The Alsatian barked once and disappeared into a million specks of light.
Warehouse fifteen was dank and gray. It looked like something out of a B-movie, with a rusted door and moss slowly populating the sides, one square inch at a time. Perhaps locating the building only a few yards away from the shoreline wasn’t a good idea.
We walked up to it that evening. The entire area was bathed in orange lights and shadows. It was a warehouse haven, each placed next to the other like Lego blocks.
“This is it,” said Tenzin as he pointed at the large number “15” painted in red over the right side of the door. I rolled my eyes and tried not to say anything about stating the obvious.
“My boy, would you mind getting the door?” Tenzin placed a hand on his hip and massaged it. “I’m an old man with a bad back.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You’re rubbing your hip.”
“I meant to say my hips.”
“Yet, you said your back.”
“Would you please open the door, Erik? My English is not so good, you see.”
“Seemed perfectly good to me until now.”
“I am an old man, Erik.”
I gripped the door handle and dragged it to the side. The rusted hinges offered a little resistance before giving. A crack of darkness grew wide enough for two people to pass through side-by-side.
“I know you’re old,” I replied as we got in. “You’re going senile.”
Tenzin said nothing and walked inside, veering toward the right.
“Look at this,” he said as he pointed at something very close to the door.
I glanced over his shoulder. “Is that—?”
“Yes,” he replied. He poked a finger inside the large pile of manure. “Yes, it is chiropteran droppings.”
“Ew,” I replied. “Do you usually dig your hands in poop?”
“Yes, if it is necessary.”
“And did you wash your hands before handing me that orange earlier today?”
Tenzin stood up and pondered. “I really cannot remember.”
My stomach turned.
“But do not worry,” he continued. “The rabbit deva acts as a disinfectant.”
“Really?”
Tenzin shrugged. “How should I know?”
I was about to say something when we heard it. A shriek, like a thousand crows, echoed throughout the warehouse, making everything vibrate.
“Erik,” whispered Tenzin once the shriek stopped, leaving only a ringing silence. “Crouch down very slowly and do not make a sound.”
I obeyed, and slid against the wall with my eyes transfixed in the darkness. Tenzin fumbled around and I heard a metallic click. He had flipped the circuit breaker, once again illuminating the warehouse.
I heard a shriek and a violent gust of wind blasted me. Instinctively, I pushed sideways, my legs burning with the effort, and rolled awkwardly to my right. The black monster flew cleanly by and circled back. It hung upside down from a support bar, squeezing the metal under the grip of its talons.
At first glance it looked like a giant bat, maybe two and a half meters in length. It had talons like a raptor’s that squeezed the metal support bar of the lamp. Both lamp and bar were crushed like a tin can, with pieces of glass burying themselves in the chiropteran’s furry body. It stood tall and proud like an eagle, except that it was upside down. Its body was covered in long black fur, giving it a puffed-up look. From its sides, a pair of bat-like wings spread out, each two meters long and made out of thick, jet-black leather. A pair of wicked, curved claws, like meat hooks, reflected the light. They were the color of the wings, completely hidden in darkness until the moment they skewered you. Its head cocked itself at an angle like a bird’s. A pair of knobby, forward-facing horns emerged from the sides of its head where its ears should have been. The horns vibrated slightly, picking up on any movement or sound. The chiropteran opened its mouth to deliver a quick shriek. It had no pointy fangs or fancy beak. It had a hole, like a sucker, and around this sucker were rows of small teeth, like a spiral of white enamel. I shuddered involuntary. Those teeth weren’t for ripping out flesh. They were made for juicing you into a gooey paste that could be sucked directly into the monster’s stomach.
The chiropteran released its hold on its perch and dropped down. Its wings spread and it glided right at me, talons bared. I placed my right hand on my chest and pulled at a knot, releasing Djinn. I grasped the hilt and swung at the talons raking toward me, releasing an arc of blue energy from the blade. The hit altered the angle of the attack, sending the beast sideways. It flapped its wings awkwardly to avoid slamming onto a wall.
“It seems to like you, Erik,” said Tenzin. The old man was weaving in and out of the large crates and containers piled on top of each other, moving like a breeze. The bat never noticed him.
“Shut up,” I said as I ran away from the flapping and screeching.
“Perhaps I should provide a distraction?” he suggested.
The chiropteran got wise to my act and avoided my second attack, swerving to one side like a race car driver as blue energy streaked by. One of its wings caught my side, sending me crashing against a crate. One of the claws raked across my chest, tearing open a gash. My powers healed me instantly, but it still hurt like a bitch.
“You know,” I called out to Tenzin. “Maybe you could provide a distraction.”
I heard him chuckle.
Heat emanated from the other side of the warehouse. A single spot shone brightly, becoming increasingly intense by the heartbeat. The Chiropteran twisted its head toward the light, its small, bulbous, blood-red eyes searching for its source. Like a moth to a flame, I thought. The beast took flight lazily and circled over Tenzin, who stood still at the center of the light.
So that’s enlightenment, I thought. Not the best of my puns, but hey, I was being attacked by a giant mutant bat.
I searched the room for something to give me an advantage. The warehouse was a mess of crates piled on top of each other with scratch marks on nearly every wall and smashed wood littering the areas of the room where the bat had gone rabid. Small piles of bones were
tucked in one corner, and I shuddered to think whose they were. At least there were no skulls.
An idea formed in my head as I saw the beast float hypnotically toward Tenzin.
“Erik,” yelled Tenzin. “Please, do something before I run out of energy.”
“I got it old man.”
Tenzin released his power and the light disappeared. The bat shook its head violently and swooped toward the Asian man. It swooped again and again, raking with its talons, trying to catch the pesky little man. Tenzin had a different style of evasion than I did. He would twist and turn in tight circles, always narrowly avoiding a lethal blow.
I climbed on the first crate and leapt onto a higher one. My body remembered the mechanics of climbing from all those days of training in the forest. I ran toward a particularly high container, took two steps upwards and grasped the ledge. I pulled myself up and climbed a smaller container on top of that. Soon, I was only a few feet away from banging my head against the ceiling. The chiropteran flapped below, its focus completely on Tenzin.
Here’s a little piece of knowledge about birds or anything that flies. Their advantage is that they can swoop down from the shelter of the sky and surprise their victims. They don’t have to worry about something sneaking up on them because where is it going to hide? They also think they are the only ones with the aerial advantage and therefore have no protection against something that is above them.
I was above the chiropteran in plain sight, and yet it never noticed me – which was exactly what I was going for. I jumped down, with Djinn glowing an intense blue, my power ready to strike. I rocketed down towards the bat’s long, furry body and unleashed a crescent-shaped blast of azure energy. It caught the target perfectly, and no amount of shrieking and flapping could slow the bat as it slammed into the floor.
Now, here’s some information about our species: we can’t fly, but we think we can. I thought that I could either land on the bat as it fell down or that maybe the blowback from my energy would propel me towards a container where I could then perform some awesome ninja acrobatics, land safely, and amaze everyone.
I was wrong.
For one thing, I couldn’t aim that well – no land creature can. I veered off to one side as I swung my arm to blast the chiropteran with Djinn, which meant that all I was going to land on were crates and a hard concrete floor. And the whole blowback thing was just cartoonish - Newton’s Third Law, applied in midair, too. But that just meant that if I were thrown upward, I’d have more distance to fall.
Having Gil do all of my homework was now coming back to bite me in the ass.
My back met a wooden crate at a million miles per hour and flattened it. I’m pretty sure some of the cracking and snapping was my spine, as well. The impact made my eyes roll to the back of my head, and I felt as if every bone in my body had been broken. I couldn’t breathe and was hanging onto consciousness by a fine thread.
The chiropteran was lucky. The impact still hurt it, but the damn thing was covered in fur. My hazy mind made a quick connection – fur equals less ouch, which means the damn thing could get up faster.
I had no such protection. I certainly had no fur, unless you counted the two whiskers of hair growing on my chin at the speed of continental drift.
The chiropteran stood awkwardly on all fours and loomed over me. It brought its disturbing sucker-mouth close to my face, ready to shred me. I got Djinn in between us, aimed the tip at its neck, and closed my eyes in disgust. I channeled all my power through my sword and a beam of energy shot from the tip, carrying the bat upwards. It flapped its wings, trying to regain balance, but instead crashed against a wall.
A quick burst of light exploded from the walls as the smell of ozone and burned plastic filled the air. The chiropteran spasmed, but remained glued to the walls, or rather, its wing remained firmly attached to the metallic support bar that it had brushed against. Shrieking made my ears ring, and after a few seconds the light was gone as every bulb in the warehouse burst into a quick shower of glass. The monster crashed onto a stack crates, lying very still.
I stood and searched for Tenzin. With a light sound, the emergency lights on top of the door kicked in, and I saw the Asian crouched slightly with his fingers hovering around an electrical outlet.
“Was that you?” I asked. I still hadn’t fully regained my breath. Magic can’t heal the shock of plummeting down such a distance, even when the fall is non-lethal.
“Yes,” he replied as he rubbed his fingers. The smallest of lightning bolts, tiny enough to crackle between his middle and index finger, snaked once around his hand before disappearing completely.
“Neat trick.”
“It’s all about subtlety, Erik.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.” My eyes wandered over to the dead monster. “I wonder what made it nest here.”
“There are two reasons creatures take shelter,” said Tenzin. “Fear or breeding.”
I looked at the chiropteran’s claws. The sensation of being raked by them was painfully fresh. “I don’t think anything could have scared that away.”
“Then, perhaps, we can search for signs of breeding,” suggested Tenzin as he walked over to one corner. I followed his lead and headed over to another corner.
I found what I was looking for easily enough. It looked like any other bird’s nest, except it was the size of a small car. Inside were three eggs, ordinary as can be. Each looked about four times the size of a regular chicken egg and had small spots.
“I think I found our happy family,” I called out. Beside the eggs sat a broken crate and a half-eaten ham. Guess that solved the mystery of what was in the crates, as well as the bones I had seen earlier.
Tenzin glanced over to the eggs and placed a palm on one of them. “These hatchlings are soon due. A month, perhaps, at the latest.”
“You’re a bat whisperer now?”
“I have a way with animals,” replied the Asian. Then, his expression darkened. “They will hatch and demand a fresh kill. Something with running blood. This preserved food will not be sufficient for them.”
“Meaning they’ll hunt people,” I said.
“Yes.”
Without warning, I tightened my grip on Djinn and channeled just enough power into it to coat the blade in azure flame and elongate it. I brought the weapon down on the eggs, destroying the hatchlings before they could hurt anyone. I hacked once, twice, and backed away from the goo spilling over. The carcasses of the baby monsters spilled, most of them in a bloody mess. I sent them a wave of energy just to be sure.
Tenzin made a sound.
“What?” I said. “Was I supposed to let them live because every life deserves a chance or some other bullshit?”
“No,” he said simply. “I was just wondering if the eggs were edible or not.”
I rolled my eyes and let out a chuckle, before smashing the egg and looking back at him. Tenzin had a twinkle in his eyes. As we walked out, he slung an arm around my shoulder. We both smelled like bat crap.
“You got anything that makes water?” I asked.
Tenzin straightened up. “Like what?”
“I dunno. A magic water deva or something.”
Tenzin concentrated, and the Alsatian appeared with the usual light show. Tenzin petted the dog once and sent it away. The dog ran down the dimly lit street, its tongue lolling from its mouth.
“I’m just sayin’,” I continued. “You got a magic friendship dog. Why can’t you have something that makes water? Water is useful.”
“Why would I need God’s help getting something so easily procured? It’s called God’s favor, not a wish list.”
“Do you have any water then, since it’s so easily procured?”
“No, I do not have any water.”
“So, where am I supposed to get water?” I insisted. Tenzin pointed at the ocean. “Really? You expect me to wash in salt water?”
“People have been doing it for centuries,” replied Tenzin with a shrug.
“That’s fresh water. Like a river.”
Tenzin eyes opened wide in wanderlust. “Perhaps that is why my clothes need replacing so often.”
I rolled my eyes. “Maybe if you had a deva that sews clothes.”
“No such thing, my friend. Now, excuse me while I welcome our friend.” Tenzin turned to face away from me.
The dog returned, followed closely by the warehouse owner, who huffed out of breath. He had probably run after the dog.
“Your buddy here smelled me out,” he said between wheezes. “I was waitin’ to see you in action.”
“I’m afraid the job is done,” replied Tenzin. He placed one hand on the man’s shoulder. “Listen to me. It was a giant bat, perhaps six feet long.” The owner’s eyes widened. “It’s dead now, don’t worry. But you need to burn the body and bury what’s left. Do not take pictures of it. Do not share this information with the public.” The dog rubbed against the warehouse owner’s legs and he petted it unconsciously. “I am saying this for your safety. There are many who will harm you if you start a conspiracy. It’s better to go about your peaceful life, my friend.”
Tenzin’s tone was calming and hypnotic. The guy just threatened the owner, but not once did I feel hostility coming from him. Perhaps he was referring to the other whack-job Wizards like my Dad, who wouldn’t think twice before killing a human.
The man nodded sharply. “I ain’t telling nobody. Who would believe me? I’d end up in a nut house.” Then, as an afterthought, he said, “You guys never told me how much.”
Tenzin smiled. “We never asked to be paid.”
“Then how about a crate? This is some premium ham, best of the best. I get it cheap from Canada,” he said proudly.
Tenzin was about to decline when he heard my stomach rumble. He gave me a look, which I returned by glowering at him. “Perhaps one for the road then.”
