by Lee Hayton
“How do they keep tabs on you?” Asha scanned her old friend from top to toe. “They have an implant or a strap or something?”
“Or something.” Dory shrugged. “I don’t know. They’ve come running at a rate of knots if I ever come close to stepping over the imaginary line.”
Asha moved closer while I shifted over to stare out the window. I kept behind the curtain while the light beams danced over the front lawn, highlighting the outdoor furniture in a brilliant white.
The loudspeaker overhead crackled back into life. “If you come out now, we won’t hurt you. I repeat: If you exit now, we won’t shoot.”
“Yeah, right.” Asha pulled Dory into a hug and closed her eyes, placing her forehead against the witches. I guessed she was searching for whatever bug they had on her.
“Why not just cast a spell on us, and we can figure out your escape later?” I suggested, leaving the window. “If we don’t head out soon, I’m guessing they’ll make their way in.”
“Got it!” Asha frowned and pulled back. “Jesus. What did you do?”
“Nothing.” Dory stepped back, rubbing her elbows with a worried frown. “Can you stop it signaling or whatever it does.”
“Get a knife,” Asha said, ignoring Dory to turn to me. “As sharp as you can find.”
I left the room quickly, but not so fast that I missed seeing the blood drain out of Dory’s face. “What are you going to do?”
Ha! I think that’s obvious to everyone.
“Here you go.” It was a small fruit knife, but along with being the sharpest thing I could find, it was about the only cutlery in the kitchen that was clean. I guess living alone for too long meant your standards slipped.
Aware that my hunger would ignite if I stared at blood spatter, I turned aside as Asha set to work. The operation was quick. Only a few seconds passed before Dory howled with pain and Asha stepped back, the knife dripping onto the floor.
“Done.”
The tiny chip that had been embedded in the back of Dory’s neck was now sitting in Asha’s palm.
“Do you want some pain relief?” she asked her friend. “I can also get in there and make a quick adjustment.”
Dory’s eyes widened at that, and she took a step back. “No, thanks. I’d rather just cope with this.”
She bustled into the kitchen, returning a second later holding a crumpled paper towel against the wound. Dory nodded at the object in Asha’s hand. “What do we do with that, now? If we just leave it sitting here, they’ll soon work out the difference, won’t they?”
Asha moved it around, lifting her hand level with Dory’s neck. “There’s something in here that’s winding down,” she said with a frown. “It must need to be inside something organic to keep it signaling.”
“Well, put it back in!” Dory’s eyes widened in fright, and she tried to grab the chip out of Asha’s hand.
Asha nimbly stepped away, holding it up and out of reach. “Just a moment. Let’s figure this out.”
“We don’t have time to figure it out. You need to get the fuck out of here, and I need that”—she pointed to the chip—“stuck back in here.” Dory pointed at her cut.
“Give it here,” I said. Before anyone could react, I picked it up off Asha’s hand and swallowed it. “There you go. Inside an organic life form.”
Dory gave a shriek of horror and launched across the room at me. For a woman that old, she was quicker than she had any right to be.
“Just calm down,” I said, warding her off with outstretched hands. “Do you spell to make me invisible. I’ll stay here while you and Asha turn into rats or whatever and get the hell out.”
“You’re happy to do that?” Asha cocked one eyebrow at me.
I nodded. “Bit late now, even if I wasn’t.” I pointed at my throat where the chip felt like it was stuck halfway down.
“You’re going to get me killed,” Dory moaned as the helicopter overhead swept away, the deafening sound retreating. “Now, they’re going to land and come in here on foot.”
“Get a move on, then,” I said. “Turn me invisible.”
“Didn’t you hear?” Dory screamed. “It only works so long as you hold your breath.”
I nodded. “I know. I haven’t need to breathe since 1932. Just go ahead and do it, okay?”
The first thing I was glad to learn was that anything I was dressed in changed invisible, as well. That would have been awkward, otherwise. I grabbed hold of the clothing that Asha and Dory discarded while trying very hard indeed not to look at the people who’d vacated it. After shoving it down the front of my trousers, it too vanished from sight.
“We’ll need to meet somewhere afterward,” Dory said. “I’m not wandering around naked for the rest of the night, looking for somebody I can’t even see.”
“The parsonage,” I said. “Go through the woods and then along to there. An old friend of mine—Percival—lives there still. Tell him that, when you knock. I don’t want him sucking you dry before I can get there.”
“Sounds lovely,” Asha said dryly.
A second later she shrank down to six inches long and ran across my foot. Bleurgh. Dory followed along last, and I moved across to open the back door a sliver. To anyone observing it would have looked like someone opening it for a quick peek outside. The two rats scarpered through and bounced toward the gate.
Hopefully, they’d make it to the forest’s edge before the spell wore off. I hated to think what would happen if they turned back in front of the men about to storm the cottage.
Although I’m sure they thought they were whispering, I could clearly hear the men making their way to the cottage. They flanked it first, running down either side to form a human barricade where each of them was in line of sight to the one before and after.
If I stayed downstairs, I reckoned that pretty soon they’d trip over me. Invisible or not, I needed the soldiers to search the house and convince themselves the tracker was malfunctioning before I could move on.
If they surrounded the place, it might take a little bit longer. I’d lifted the fruit knife from Asha’s hand before she changed, but I wasn’t that keen on trying to cut it out of me.
While listening for the first signs of attack, I crept up the stairs, keeping low to the ground so they wouldn’t know that’s where I was going until the last moment. Trying to keep at Dory’s neck height would only work for so long, but I intended to stretch that out as long as I could.
“Dory Grainger. Send out your friends now, and you won’t come to any harm.”
Interesting. Either they weren’t scanning for the heat tracks of human beings, or they were trying to fool Dory into thinking that they didn’t know the others had gone.
Two could play at that ridiculous game.
Over the years I’d known Asha, I’d grown very good at mimicking her voice. Just so I could repeat her words in the middle of an argument, usually laced with a helping of scorn.
Dory’s voice was lower, but that should just make it easier.
“They’ve gone,” I called out. “I’ve sent them all away to safety. There’s no need for you to come in here, I’m following all the rules.”
“Open the door. We need to talk to you.”
Talk. That’s a good one. Obviously, that’s why the empire sent the soldiers out with high-grade firepower. So, they could ‘talk.’
“They’ve gone. I’m in here by myself. You can see that, can’t you?”
“Open the door.”
Implacable as usual. What a delight.
“I’m not opening the door, and I’m not coming out. You’re scaring me, and I want you to go away.”
“On the count of three…”
“Everybody’s gone. I’m obeying your rules. Leave me alone.”
The hysteria that I span into that last line came out of me in a rush. That didn’t need to be faked. All I’d wanted for the last hundred years was to be left alone.
“Come out, and we won’t have to break down
your door.”
“Go away and leave me alone.”
“You broke the rules, Dory. You know that we have to visit you and ensure that you begin complying. We’ve been over this before. Making us fight our way in isn’t going to help anyone.”
There was nothing on earth I hated more than a soldier issued with a single command. They weren’t trained to think or make decisions—they were instructed to obey orders no matter what the cost.
“If you stand back from the door, I’ll come out,” I said. “I don’t want one of you goons to accidentally shoot me in the face.”
A boot kicked at the door, cracking through the lock and sending it flying open on the third impact. I fled up the rest of the stairs, looking around me in terror as I clambered into the loft.
Chapter Seventeen
It was a trap. The cold realization that I wasn’t smart enough to get out of this one struck. I’d swallowed the damn tracking chip before giving myself the chance to think it through.
It didn’t matter that I was invisible if they could feel me and just shoot at the mysterious lump in the corner.
The beams for the loft crisscrossed above my head. In the middle of the room, they sat about a yard down. If I could swing myself up there, I might gain myself some time.
The noise of me jumping up and missing might also shorten my lifespan to minutes. I could regenerate through a lot, but somebody in the team would have a stake at the ready. A fighting unit would leave base camp without one, just in case.
So? Don’t miss.
A great thought to have and one that I managed to obey. I jumped and snagged the beam with my fingertips, holding in a grip like a mountain climber while I gathered up the strength to pull myself further. When I finally got one elbow over the wooden beam, it felt like a victory. Considering my legs still dangled in the middle of the room, perhaps I celebrated too early.
The barrel from the first soldier’s rifle poked up into the attic. A flashlight was strapped to the barrel, sending out a beam exactly where the soldier would shoot.
When he’d verified the area above him was empty, the soldier’s helmet came into view. Trying not to grunt, I pulled myself higher up until I could straddle the beam. The extra padding down either pants leg didn’t make it easy.
“Clear,” the man called down the stairs. He was standing just below me, having turned in a circle to verify that nothing was there.
“It’s not clear. Look at your damn tracking device,” a scornful voice called up. “Learn to use your instruments before you genuinely lose her trail.
“Dory!” the same voice called out, louder. “We’ve been through this before, remember. You know that eventually, we’re going to track you down.”
I was looking above my head, trying to work out my next move when another set of footsteps joined the first soldier.
“Remember the last time you tried to hide from us? You fainted after holding your breath for close on five minutes. When you fell down onto the floor, we thought you were dead.
I felt a grudging respect for the woman who’d drawn us into her trouble. After so long trying to gain my own freedom, it would be churlish not to admire the same fight in another. Of course, admiration wasn’t going to help me out of this. After the soldiers waited for ten minutes, they’d figure out that Dory had a new game.
“Whereabouts are you?” The beam of the second soldier’s flashlight shone straight up into my eyes, but didn’t meet any resistance.
“If you’ve crawled up into the ceiling, then you’re taking your life into your hands. Fall down from there, Dory, and chances are you’ll crack your head open. We can patch up a broken limb in the helicopter, but you’ll be in strife if you need more attention. It takes a good four hours or more to get clearance to take you to hospital. You don’t want a repeat of the first time you tried to escape, do you?”
I felt like jumping down on his head if only to stop the crawling condescension in his voice. Whoever raised this jerk from his father’s spilled seed, had missed out on essential training.
“If you make us come up there, it won’t end well for you.”
I decided that if he came up here after me, it wouldn’t end well for him, either.
I balanced on the beam as best I could, but the rough wood was only two inches across. The constant pressure of my full weight on such a small area started to hurt.
I stepped forward, transferring my weight from my back foot to the front so I could give my toes a wriggle. A shot rang out as the board gave a resounding creak.
“Did I get you, Dory? I guess not. Just come down or the next shot might hit you straight between the eyes. What a mess that would be to recover. If we have to tell the Sergeant it’s a complete recovery operation again, he’s not going to be happy. He might stick you in an even worse body than the one you’ve got now.”
I stood still, trying to work out what the hell the man was saying. The young face could mean that he wasn’t privy to enough information to make much sense, but he was apparently more experienced than the first toe rag they’d sent up here.
How could Dory survive being shot between the eyes? How could anyone? Sure, a vampire would eventually regenerate the damaged flesh, brain, and bone, but even that would be a Herculean effort.
My front foot sent up a complaint next. I placed my back foot down, but decided against transferring my weight. Another shot might nick me and cause my ancient flesh to leak out its viscous fluid. One tracking device was hard enough to manage, leaking would be tantamount to two.
“If you don’t come down soon, Dory, you’ll force out hands.” The second soldier moved right under me, his face looking straight up into mine but staring through, to the ceiling. “I don’t know what new spell you’ve cooked up, but you should know by now it’s never good news.”
A loud bang sounded on the roof above me, and both soldiers turned, pointing their guns at the spot.
“Dory, if you’re trying that trick again when you split apart then I’d suggest you get yourself back together now.”
I raised my eyebrows, staring up at the ceiling. If Dory’s other spells had such large Achilles’ heels, I wondered what on earth had happened when she split apart.
“Call down to the lower team,” the second soldier ordered the first. “We’ll need eyes on the outside. Tell them to grab a bucket, too, if one’s handy. Seems like Dory’s going to need to be scraped off the roof.”
The soldier retreated down a few stairs and started to repeat the commands to those below. A quick tramp of boots moved across the floor, then the door banged as they marched outside.
Whoever or whatever was on the roof, I hoped for their sake they, too, were invisible.
“Tick, tock, Dory. It’s already been close on fifteen minutes. Another five and all your little pieces will go splat.”
I shook my head, torn between looking down at the asshole with a gun and staring at the ceiling as though I could pierce through to the roof on the other side.
The first soldier walked back upstairs. “There’s no reports come through yet. I think we’re dealing with a multiple incidents again.”
“No shit, Sherlock. Get your goggles into place.”
While he continued to point the rifle up toward me, the first soldier donned extra gear. Once finished, they switched. I preferred the former. The other guy’s hands shook enough that the barrel seemed to point everywhere. Hard to jump over a shot if you didn’t know where it’d hit.
“Ready?” When the first soldier nodded, the second moved over to the window and gave three quick raps. A thumbs-up indicated the soldiers on the ground had seen him. I steadied myself, muscles tensed, wondering if I should jump.
The roof shuddered as footsteps ran across it. Landing hard, the person or thing above must be running to make that much noise. I heard multiple shots being fired and a low groan. Both soldiers beneath me tensed, their attention half diverted. I used the opportunity to move back, my neck pressing up against the
roof even though my knees were bent.
“What’s happening?” soldier one asked. “Have they caught her?”
“Negative.” Soldier two suddenly sprinted for the stairs. “They’re firing at something. Keep the beam covered until I get back.”
Outside, a shriek ripped through the quiet night air. Another burst of gunfire followed, along with a call shouting, “I’m hit. I’m hit!”
“Oh, shit,” soldier one muttered, moving across to the window to stare out. “Oh, shit!”
His sudden yell gave me the cover I needed to swing down from the beam. By the time he stopped shouting, my chin was propped on the edge, my legs and torso hanging free.
Come on, I urged silently. Call out again.
One more shout would cover the sound of me landing. Without that distraction, the noise would be too easily identified.
Another shriek pierced through the air. Gunfire volleyed, cutting a semicircular path of sound that echoed something shooting as they turned. Soldier one tried to bang the window open. I almost let go, then clung on at the last minute as he spun around.
His shocked pale face told the story of someone new to the job. If I hadn’t known better, I would have guessed they’d picked him straight out of an office chair and placed him in uniform. Impossible, of course. The empire spent millions on training their forces. The best in the world. It was surprise and fear that had reverted him to an untrained man, standing in the middle of a battle with no idea of what to do.
In that moment of indecision, he began to fire. Straight up at the roof where my torso had been positioned just a few moments ago. He swept the barrel of his gun along, at a level about six inches above the beam, then swept back at twelve, back again at two feet.
My muscles seized in fear as the shots skimmed just above my head. Either the soldier took his finger off the trigger, or he ran out of ammunition. The firing ceased, and the only sound in the loft was his ragged panting.
“What the fuck are you doing up there?”
“I heard a noise,” the soldier called down. “But it must just be a rat in the rafters or something. There’s nothing up here.”
