by Art DeForest
The mutant tiger was turning and bending to reach for Sara as she sat against the wall with a dazed expression on her face. I jumped from several feet away, sending a double kick in the beast’s direction, hoping I could knock it away from her. I had only limited success.
By that I mean I literally bounced of the tiger’s broad chest and landed in a heap on the ground. At least I managed to draw it’s attention from the now recovering Sara and put it squarely in my direction. “Yay me.”
The angry tiger’s one good eye, locked with mine as he turned with a snarl in my direction. I could see the wound caused by my shot to his forehead earlier was already healing.
I scrambled to my feet and took a defensive stance as the huge creature took a step in my direction. The stakes in my hands suddenly felt like dry twigs that children might pick up to play at sword fighting. It wasn’t a reassuring feeling.
As the beast started taking another step in my direction the tearing hiss of a feline warcry ripped from behind it, quickly followed by another hiss of pain from the tiger as my eternal hero, Fangs appeared suddenly, ripping and tearing at the back of the tiger’s knee.
++++
Fangs heard the sound of battle through the door ahead of him. His sense of his person told him that she was involved somehow. He started running full out towards the door, knowing it would not stop him from helping her out.
His speed and body weight had him hurtling past the barrier as his front paws pushed on the restraining bar across it. At the other end of the hall, he could see the back of a huge beast. The scent of feline and lycan mixed strongly in the air around him. His eyes widened and he lunged back into a full speed charge as he caught a glimpse of his person preparing to face off with the huge predator.
The monster took one step towards his person and was preparing for another when Fangs hit the tender spot behind it’s knee. Three quarter inch claws and one inch fangs tore into it, rending and tearing. To Fangs, it felt as if he were trying to tear apart steel cable wrapped in boot leather. He, none the less, managed to do enough damage to divert the beast from his person.
The tiger swept an arm instinctively behind itself, trying to sweep the tiny creature attacking its leg away with it’s three inch claws. Fangs jumped nimbly back however, landing in a crouch several feet away.
Unfortunately for the mutant, this brought it’s broad back directly in line with Sara’s razor sharp blade. Its head raised in the air and it screamed suddenly as the sword entered low in it’s back, angling up sharply to slice through a kidney before continuing inexorably up to pass through the diaphragm and into it’s right lung.
The indescribable pain of a damaged kidney brought the beast crashing to it’s knees before it fell face first to the ground. The silvered blade of Sara’s sword assuring that it would stay there.
As silence descended back on the hallway, Sara stood over the animal with a look of profound sadness on her face. Fangs made his way over to me and I knelt down to enfold him in a huge hug as he rubbed his forehead against mine. Deacon and Marcus, who was still in battle form staggered to their feet and joined us. Ragged claw marks across Marcus’ chest were already about half healed. We all joined Sara in inspecting the remains of the huge creature that had nearly taken all of us by itself.
“This is an abomination.” Said Sara, anger and revulsion were mixed into her tone.
“What is it?” Asked Deacon as he stared down shakily.
“It appears that the Abandonados have managed to introduce the Lycan virus into an animal.” Said Sara, shaking her head.
“That’s some serious manipulation, making a virus cross the species barrier like that.” I said with an expression of concern on my face.
“They are creating weapons to fight us with.” Came a low gravelly voice as Marcus, transforming back to his human shape, moved up beside me. “They know no lycan will ever willingly work for them, so they’ve created monsters.”
“We have to stop it.” I said as I stood up from hugging Fangs, but first we need to rescue Trish.”
The others nodded their heads as I gave Fangs instructions to lead us back to her. He started moving back the way he’d come as Sara quickly bent low and removed her blade from the cooling body on the floor.
10
The hallway came to an end in the emergency door Fangs had blown through earlier. It was locked on this side however and it took a couple of shot’s from Marcus’ MP5 to open it up. It was effective, but it wasn’t exactly quiet.
We formed up and proceeded into the hallway behind the now useless door. Fangs went through the door once it was opened. He seemed offended that we had made so much noise just to get through it. Marcus went through next. He had his tactical vest back on over his, now bare, chest and back. I tried not to let it distract me. He’d given me the ammo to reload the derringer and I followed closely behind him with the little gun held at the ready position. Sara followed behind, sword at the ready. Deacon took up the rear guard position.
The corridor went up for about thirty feet before turning to the right and proceeding on. Fangs stopped at the corner and sniffed at a small black spot on the floor that turned out to be blood. There was no sign of whatever had spilled it. After a few seconds of looking around, he kept going.
Around the corner, Fangs slowed once more as he approached another emergency door in the center of the hallway, looking intently up at the narrow window running along one side. His hackles rose and he came to a complete stop, a few feet away from the door. A low growl escaped his lips.
I eased to the opposite wall from the door in order to try and get an angle to see what Fangs was looking at. The face of the goon who’d captured me earlier looked at me with a shocked expression on his face before the barrel of a gun came up to point at me.
“Gun!” I shouted as I ducked and threw myself across the hall. Bullets spat out from whatever automatic weapon the guy was using and ricocheted on down the corridor. The gunfire stopped as the magazine ran dry and Marcus lunged forward, sticking the barrel of his MP5 through the shattered remains of the window and shot an extended burst through it moving the barrel around like it was a fire hose.
Dropping to his ass with his back to the brick wall, he quickly switched out magazines before pointing his weapon back at the window. Slowly he rose up to a crouch and turned to face the door. No return fire came our way as he hazarded a glance through it. After a second, more thorough glance, he tried the handle on the door. It was locked, as expected. “Heads up.” he said, taking two steps back from the door and pointing his gun at the locking mechanism. After two quick shots, he approached the door and eased it open.
My old buddy, goon one, was lying in the middle of the hallway in a puddle of his own fluids, desperately trying to regenerate the holes in his heart and a few other places. “Where’s Trish?” I asked as I bent down to pick up the Kel-Tec RDB from the ground beside him.
“Fuck you.” He coughed at me as i plucked a spare magazine from the trousers of his scrubs.
“How original.” I said as I found another mag in his opposite pocket.
Sara’s sword blade came to rest against his throat. “Tell us and you may live to see the night again.” She said quietly.
“Kill me.” He said, glancing in her direction. “Tell you or not, either way I’ll die. It’ll just be faster if you do it rather than Antonella.” He said resignedly.
The sword raised and lowered in a blur as Sara granted him his wish.
Fangs had slid through the door during the brief conversation and chittered at us from a little ways down the corridor. It was obviously a command to follow. We formed up once more and did as we were ordered.
Fangs led us straight and true, all the way down to the other end of the hall. As we approached I could see what looked to be an exam table through the entry. The smell of blood and disinfectant assaulted my nose as we got closer. My tawny companion kept straight and true though, heading directly into the foul smelling room.
Marcus entered behind him, MP5 scanning every corner. “Clear,” he said quietly before dropping his weapon to be caught by his sling and rushing into the room. I followed closely, a bit surprised by his abrupt action. I saw the cause immediately upon getting into the room however.
He was standing in front of a cage, arms reaching between the thick stainless steel bars, trying to comfort a skinny and bedraggled Trish. I visually cleared the room, making sure that Marcus hadn’t missed anything in his rush to get to Trish. An exam table dominated the center of the room and white institutional cabinets with shiny chrome handles held up a stainless steel countertop along the left hand wall. Against the right hand wall, sat a desk that had the same institutional styling as the cabinets. The desktop was devoid of any clutter and seemed to be there just to give the computer on it a place to sit.
Deacon and Sara followed in behind me. Sara rushed to Marcus’ side while Deacon walked over to the desk and computer with a look of interest on his face. As I headed around the exam table to check on Trish, Marcus pulled with all his considerable strength on the locked cage door before shaking it and muttering a curse under his breath in frustration.
“We need to find the key for this lock.” He growled. “I can’t risk shooting it open with Trish on the other side.
I broke off my approach and headed over the the cabinets and started opening drawers and doors in a vain search for the key. Deacon searched the desk as well. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, Sara stepped up to the lock, nudging Marcus out of the way. Reaching around to the small of her back she produced one of her razor sharp throwing knives and nicked her left index finger. “What the…” Started Marcus as Sara’s blood welled up from the shallow cut.
“Magic to the rescue once more.” She said with a wink and a smile.
Placing her finger against the key slot in the lock, Sara allowed her blood to seep into the mechanism for a moment before closing her eyes and starting to chant softly.
As she was doing this, Deacon gave up his search for a key and jiggled the mouse on the computer, waking it up and perusing what appeared to be a spreadsheet that appeared on the screen.
After a few more moments, Sara’s chant came to an end as I heard the soft click of the lock opening and allowing Trish to walk shakily out of the cage. She walked straight into Marcus’ waiting arms, burying her face into his neck and shoulder as his huge arms encircled her protectively. Her shoulders began to shake with silent sobs as he kissed her brow and tried to comfort her.
The sight of Marcus holding Trish so tenderly tried to fan a little spark of jealousy in my heart, but I quickly smothered it. They’d known each other a long time and Trish deserved all the tenderness she could get right now. Reaching into one of the cabinets I’d already searched, I pulled out a soft cotton blanket, like you find in most hospitals, and walked over to the pair. Unfolding it quickly, I wrapped it around Trish’s naked shoulders, giving her what comfort I could. She took her arms from around Marcus and held the blanket tightly around herself. “Thanks.” She said tremulously.
I smiled at her and headed back to the entrance to the room, scanning for any company that might be sneaking up on us. I knew it was only a matter of time before more Abandonados showed up. I knew Goon Two was still on the loose and we already knew there was a crew headed this way from Antonella’s headquarters in order to deliver me to her tender mercies.
A sense of urgency overtook me as I thought of the potential for imminent disaster that could happen at any second. “We’ve got to get out of here guys.” I said in a low, urgent voice.
Deacon nodded and pulled a flash drive out of one of the many pockets in his tactical pants. He plugged it into the USB slot on the front of the computer and started to download files as fast as he could .
Marcus and Sara ushered a still shaky Trish towards the entry, as I continued to watch for the bad guys.
As Marcus, Sara and Trish came to a stop behind me, I looked back over at Deacon to see him still frantically downloading files off of the computer. “Come on, Deacon. We’ve got to go.” I said, a little annoyance creeping into my tone.
“Almost done.” He said, eyes fixed on the screen.
Sighing, I pointed the assault weapon I had appropriated back down the hallway and continued my watch. Marcus came up beside me, taking up a guard position on the other side of the door.
“Got it.” Said Deacon triumphantly after a couple more moments. He slid the flash drive into his pocket and came over to take up the rear guard position. With a nod of his head, Marcus, Fangs and I, headed back down the hallway.
We’d moved about ten feet down the corridor when the emergency door, halfway down started to open. Glancing frantically to both sides for somewhere to find cover, all I saw were closed doors. I motioned Sara and Trish to head back towards the exam room as I knelt on one knee and prepared to fight.
As the door eased open the first thing I saw was the front end of another Kel-Tec sub gun leading the way, followed a split second later by two faces. The one up by the gun was the face of goon two. The one down at knee level was that of the biggest damned rottweiler I’d ever seen and it’s eyes were locked on Fangs.
I didn’t have time to ponder the huge dog though as I quickly sent a 3 round burst in the direction of goon two. That got him to duck back around the corner but it did nothing to stop the dog from charging.
I made the connection in my head that this was the animal that Fangs had faced earlier. The difference in perspective from the mental image Fangs had sent me to that of my own vision took a second to connect. From the visions Fangs had sent me, I believed the animal to be down for a long time with the torn tendons in it’s back legs. Apparently it had accelerated healing like its tiger buddy did. At least this guy looked to be all dog, even if he was twice the size of a normal rottweiler.
I was jerked back to reality by the phutt, phutt sound of Deacons MP5 firing. The rottweiler yipped and flinched to the side, but kept coming, it’s beady eyes firmly fixed on Fangs.
Fangs’ warcry tore at the air as he readied himself to battle the beast once more. He crouched low, and the hackles rose up along his spine. The barrel of my gun started to track from the door to the charging dog when goon two opened the door just enough to stick the barrel of his gun through the space and spray bullets indiscriminately down the hallway.
A burning pain seared through my left shoulder as I instinctively ducked lower and against the wall. I tracked the Kel-Tec back up to the door as I moved, but it was closed once more. I hazarded a quick glance down at my shoulder. It seemed to be a through and through wound in the muscle. I was damned lucky it hadn’t hit bone.
Cat hisses and the deep growling snarls of the mutant rottweiler erupted behind me, interspersed with guttural swearing from Deacon’s direction. I kept my focus on the door however, trusting that my companions could handle one dog...even if it was a mutant.
Goon two tried his luck again, but this time I was ready. As the door opened a crack, I sent a round through it and charged. My shoulder complained loudly as I used that arm to open the door before it could close and lock on me once more. Throwing the door as far open as my wound would allow, I rolled into the corridor behind it, catching goon two at the knees and sending us both to the ground.
It was a mad scramble then. We each managed to divert the other’s weapon out to the side and we were left facing each other, both of us trying desperately to keep the other’s gun pushed to the side while simultaneously trying to bring our own weapon in line for a shot. Unfortunately, the arm with the bullet hole through it was the one that was trying to keep the bad guy from blowing my brains out.
The goon managed to get top position and used his body weight to leverage my gun down to the floor beside my head. My shoulder screamed at me as he slowly turned the barrel of his gun towards my head. In desperation, I gave up my gun as a lost cause. As I released it the pressure my attacker had been putting on it to keep it pinned to
the floor, caused it to slip out to the side on the slick linoleum floor.
Cursing, goon two tried to regain his balance. The hand that had previously been on my gun flashed to my waistband where the two stakes I’d borrowed earlier, rested. His eyes widened in shock as the hawthorne stake slid under his ribs and penetrated his heart. He collapsed in a boneless heap on top of me, which is just...eww.
I rolled him off to the side and quickly regained my feet, leaving him paralyzed on the floor. “Stay,” I said as I picked up my stolen rifle and headed back to the others. I burst through the door, gun up and tracking, only to find that the action was over.
Fangs looked up from the carcass of the rottweiler at his feet before loping over to rub his head against my knee. Examining the the huge animal as I knelt to rub Fangs’ ears, I saw Deacons dagger sticking out of it’s ribcage, right behind the foreleg.
Anger suffused me at the sight. Not that Deacon had killed it, he had no choice. My anger was squarely placed where it was most comfortable by this point, at the feet of the Abandonados. To stoop to such depths that they thought nothing of turning innocent animals into killing machines was almost beyond comprehension.
