Crimson Strike

by Peter Bostrom

  Rand cleared his throat beside me. As Winnifred extinguished my sword, Rand handed me the muted gray coiled whip, and I unraveled its length onto the ground.

  I summoned the sinister, imperial marching music of trumpets and trombones, and as I flicked the whip forward, it suddenly flared a bright red and its end snapped with a sizzle. It then writhed on the ground, spitting and sizzling until I stopped the music inside my head and the whip faded back to its original dull gray.

  Winnifred looked at me, her mouth opening slightly. I winked, and she smiled coyly in reply.

  I quickly wound up the whip and set it over my left shoulder. I gave Stanton a smart salute and said, “We’ll be right back.”

  “I certainly hope so,” he said with a slight frown.

  We began to walk away from the group, but before we’d taken half a dozen steps, Harold hurried over to meet us. He reached into a deep side pocket of his coveralls and pulled out the handle of a broken synthetic wooden baseball bat—the same one I’d seen him waving around when we first met.

  “Here,” he said, holding it out to me. “I . . . I want you to have this.”

  I wasn’t sure what to do. But he was a little misty-eyed, so I decided to take it. “Um, thanks?”

  Harold sniffled. “It was my son’s,” he said, almost choking on the words. “He was murdered by one of those bloodsucking monsters.”

  His lip quivered, but he took a deep breath and kept going. “Maybe it’ll be a good luck charm for you.”

  I nodded and tucked it into my empty plasma gun holster, where it fit snugly. “Thanks, Harold.”

  He sniffled again and wiped his eyes. “Now, if you see any of those pale bastards, you make them pay for what they’ve done to us.”

  I patted him on the shoulder. “I will.”

  Harold forced a smile, turned around, and walked off. I looked to Winnifred, who was quickly twirling my sword in a tight circle, testing its weight.

  “Do you think you’re ready?” I said.

  “Oh, sweet warrior,” she said with a wicked smile. “I was born ready for battle.”

  “Good,” I said, turning to where the gray and brown werewolves had escaped earlier.

  “Now, let’s go hunt us some wolves.”

  32

  THE TWO OF us crept along the edge of the sidewalk for about thirty meters, hugging the side of an office building, then darted into a dark alley with our weapons in hand. Winnifred ignited the sword, which illuminated the empty crates and boxy, industrial-looking equipment along the walls. No werewolves.

  They had to be around here somewhere. We wove our way through the discarded items and slowed when we neared the end of the alley. Winnifred extinguished her sword and we inched forward to see what lay beyond.

  The interior of the city block opened up into a wide square, free of buildings. That much we could see. There were several light poles scattered throughout the area, but they were all dark, which was odd in this part of town. However, some of the interior lights from the buildings surrounding the open square cast a soft light on the area. I could make out the shapes of well-manicured synthetic shrubs, concrete benches, and a holofountain in the center, which played an image of water shooting high into the sky before cascading down to the fountain’s physical base. For a holofountain, it was surprisingly loud.

  The only light that wasn’t broken illuminated the top of the imposing building across the square from us. A large sign on top was written in thick gold letters and said, “City Courthouse of Kalliste.” And as I glanced down at the building’s widely-spaced windows, I saw a menacing red light pulsing from somewhere within.

  I took a purposeful step forward toward the strange light, but Winnifred shot out an arm and held it across my chest. She put a slender finger to her lips, then extended the sword and pointed it toward the fountain in the center of the square. I squinted, and finally made out two furry shapes perched on the fountain’s edge. Were these the two wolves we were hunting?

  I took a few steps back into the alley and ducked behind a thick crate. I tapped the side of my helmet twice and whispered, “Stanton, I think we’ve found our scaredy-wolves in one of the city’s squares. If we’re going to neutralize them, it has to be now.”

  Stanton’s voice promptly responded. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? I’ve been talking with Lopez and Rand, and we don’t think it wise for you to be alone with that woman in combat—we still don’t know anything about her.”

  Winnifred was silhouetted a few meters away in the dim light that bled into the darkened square. Her body was long and graceful and there was something about the way she held my sword that made my heart race.

  “I think I know enough to trust her,” I whispered. “Walker out.”

  I returned to our lookout position and glanced back at the two werewolves, who appeared to be tending to their wounds from our encounter earlier. I got Winnifred’s attention and pointed with two fingers at her, and then toward the right side of the square. I pointed two fingers at myself, then toward the opposite side. She nodded, and, staying low, the two of us sneaked off in opposite directions.

  We were soon silently stationed across the square from each other with the holofountain and distracted werewolves between us. I could barely make out Winnifred on the other side, but when I saw her quickly wave, I figured this would have to do. I held up three fingers, then two, and following one, we both took off in a dead sprint toward the werewolves.

  When we were only five or so meters away, the two werewolves leapt up from their position beside the holofountain. But their postures didn’t show surprise. They showed . . . something else.

  Immediately, the two injured werewolves were joined by three more who leapt out from inside the holofountain’s basin. They were all wearing dark, short pants, which meant they were part of the original Dominion group who had come through the oculus. And they’d been waiting for us.

  Winnifred and I jumped backward, away from the fountain and then both activated our weapons. The injured gray female werewolf and a male wolf with the same coloring turned to take on Winnifred. The other three werewolves—each a different shade of brown—turned to face me.

  I began swinging the glowing red whip around my head and the three wolves let out quick barks, which I think were supposed to be laughs. The lightest brown werewolf charged straight at me and then leapt. At the last possible moment, I snapped my whip forward and, as it connected with the creature, blew a hole straight through his chest.

  The now-lifeless, furry body dropped onto the ground in a smoking heap. The two brown werewolves looked at each other, then back at me with wrinkled snouts and bared teeth. They quickly parted and began circling me, one on each side. I had to turn quickly to keep both in my field of view, unsure of their plan.

  After several long moments, the darker of the two let out a low howl and they both leapt at me.

  I threw up a hastily-imagined purple shield to my left and swung my whip to the right at the same instant.

  There was a dull thud as the lighter brown of the two slammed against my shield and staggered backward, dazed. My whip connected with the other werewolf’s forearm, which exploded and left a smoldering stump.

  As the one-handed werewolf stared down in disbelief, I reared back and sent the whip a second time at her dark brown chest. It connected with a crack and flung her backward into the fountain base, where she slumped to the ground, her dead eyes staring blankly in front of her.

  “Walker!” Winnifred yelled.

  I shot her a glance across the circular clearing and, after she sliced her sword at one of the two approaching gray werewolves, she mouthed something to me.

  “Bull meat?” I said out loud.

  As I turned back to the remaining brown werewolf, I noticed a scar over one of his eyes—it was the one who had taken Kovac. He was going to pay dearly.

  I flicked my glowing whip toward the brown werewolf and barely connected with his thigh. It made a loud crack, w
hich was followed by a sizzling noise. He let out a yelp and fell back. I looked at Winnifred, who was now doubled over near the gray male wolf.

  I made eye contact with her again, and once more, she mouthed the unmistakable words: “bull meat.” When I shrugged, she made a quick pulling motion with her free hand.

  “Oh!” I said. “Pull me!”

  The gray male werewolf swiped a clawed paw at Winnifred. She quickly lowered her sword and, with her opposite hand, snatched the wolf’s paw by the wrist. In one fluid motion she twisted the wrist, momentarily incapacitating the werewolf, and, still holding the wrist tightly, rolled forward onto the ground. A split-second later, Winnifred’s momentum sent the furry gray figure flying into the other gray werewolf, who was nursing a re-aggravated silver slug wound. The two creatures tumbled to the ground in a heap.

  As they were disentangling themselves from each other, I reached my gloved hand toward Winnifred and then pulled back, using my orange stone’s power to yank her toward me.

  She swung her glowing sword around her head in a full circle as she skidded across the smooth pavement toward me, and when she passed the two stumbling werewolves, she sliced clean through their torsos.

  I was so distracted by the frozen expressions of terror on the two werewolves’ faces that I forgot to release my pulling force on Winnifred. She twisted sideways at the last moment and collided with me, sending us both sprawling onto the ground.

  As I scrambled to my feet, a powerful brown leg shot toward me and connected with the side of my helmet. I felt a metallic crunch and, after staggering backward, I heard a high-pitched crackling noise and felt needles of white-hot pain on the side of my head. I reached under my chin and fumbled to release the strap that held the helmet in place, dropping the dented half-sphere onto the ground. It sparked violently on the side where it had been kicked, and I took another staggering step backward, just in case the integrated electronic device decided to explode.

  The single remaining werewolf stood between us, his teeth bared and his scarred eye darting between Winnifred and me, as if weighing which of us would be the easier target.

  My growling stomach broke the silence. Winnifred’s voice was a close second.

  “Push!” She yelled.

  Drawing upon what little energy I had left, I used my purple stone to shove the dark brown werewolf away from me.

  He twisted to face me and dug his claws into the pavement, dedicating all his energy to slowing his backward momentum. But, in turning to face me, he had turned his back on Winnifred. She took two quick steps, leapt forward, and swung her glowing sword completely through the werewolf’s neck. His head fell backward and the rest of his body slumped to the ground as I released my hold on him.

  We looked around the dimly lit square and saw only motionless furry bodies laying on the pavement. As Winnifred looked carefully around the periphery of the square for more monsters, I found my discarded helmet on the ground, which was no longer sparking. I let my whip’s light die, picked up the helmet, and turned it around to see how the comm unit had fared. When I tried tapping the dented side of the helmet, instead of a crackling noise, more sparks erupted from it and I dropped the helmet onto the ground.

  “Well, it looks like I won’t be calling this one in, after all.”

  I turned back toward the alley that had led us here. “Come on,” I said. “We’ve got to get back to the others and notify Colonel Vaiega. I have a bad feeling about the courthouse.”

  Just then, I heard a high-pitched noise begin to sound from behind me, which quickly grew louder until it became an ear-piercing screech. I spun around and saw the red light in the widely-spaced windows of the City Courthouse throbbing faster and faster until the lights froze and the noise suddenly stopped. The deafening silence was quickly filled by a rumbling noise and then a pillar of bright red light exploded from the roof of the building, shooting straight into the sky.

  “Oh, no,” I said. “Not again . . .”

  33

  THE NIGHT SKY was bathed in a faint red light that made everything around me look bloodied. I heard screams from a residential building across the square and squinted to find several windows open, with civilians pointing at the unbelievable building. I vainly tried signaling to them to get back inside and follow lockdown protocol, then immediately gave up. Looking back to where the pillar of bright red light was shining, I started to coil my whip and jogged toward the courthouse.

  Winnifred quickly caught up, her sword swinging as she ran.

  “You have seen this before?” Winnifred asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, “on Pluto. They called it an ‘anchor point.’ It has something to do with setting up more oculuses … oculi?”

  I looked sideways to Winnifred for a little help. “Oculi,” she said, nodding.

  “Right—they’re trying to set up even more oculi, so we’ve got to destroy it. Now.”

  As we began crossing the courtyard, I pulled a spare high-density nutrient bar from a cargo pocket with my free hand, tore the silvery wrapper open with my teeth, and held it out to Winnifred.

  “Want some?” I asked.

  Winnifred shook her head sharply, then returned to staring up at the pillar of light, so I devoured the disturbingly soft and bland item in three bites.

  “We must be vigilant,” she said as we wove our way through several geometrically-shaped synthetic shrubs. “Vampires are clever creatures, and the Court of Vultures even more so—always scheming, deceiving, and willing to kill each other in an instant if it means gaining power.”

  I left Winnifred’s side momentarily to round a cylindrical shrub. “What about the Red Dragon?” I said through the remnants of my nutrient bar. “How does that work?”

  “The Red Dragon and its leftenant—the Dragon’s Tail—are the only ones ruthless enough to maintain any sort of order among the vampires.”

  I hopped over a low park bench. “But wouldn’t the Dragon’s Tail always be at war with the Red Dragon to gain more power?”

  Winifred smiled. “One would think. But there are different types of wars—rumor has it that the two are romantically engaged. Apparently that allows them to direct their aggression … elsewhere.”

  I felt my face flush as we arrived at the entrance to the City Courthouse. I approached the building’s pillared facade cautiously, whip in hand and ready to strike at any creature who might be lurking behind them—furry, pale, or otherwise. Winnifred silently padded up the far right side of the stairs and peeked out from behind the pillars before motioning me forward.

  The entire front of the building had been made to look like an Old Earth law building, down to the synthetic wooden double doors at its entrance. I crept forward and placed my glove on a carefully obscured access panel beside the door. It glowed a faint green, but the door stayed shut.

  “Rand wouldn’t have been able to handle this,” I said as I noticed the replica antique brass doorknobs on the entrance doors and strode over to test them.

  “Why is that?” Winnifred said as she watched me twist the knob. Her free hand was fingering her neckline. Maybe all that talk about vampire courtship had gotten to her, too.

  I kept turning the knob until I felt a soft click. “Not only does he hate what the UFS has done to Constitutional law,” I said, “he may or may not have had a traumatic experience getting stuck inside the largest government building on Pluto the last time the Dominion appeared.”

  I opened the door slowly and saw that the area just behind the door was clear, except for an empty security podium and a row of vending machines in the corner, so I opened the door a little wider and looked around.

  Several light fixtures hanging from the cavernous ceiling above had been broken, which meant the room had been kept purposefully dim. Its tall walls were covered with still images of women and men in formal clothing with strained smiles on their faces—probably city judges and other legal representatives. At the opposite end of the room was a painting of an old-fashioned scale ab
ove a large set of double-doors, its perpendicular edges outlined in a strange, glowing red light. That was where we needed to be.

  Between us and the courtroom was a long, rectangular table, surrounded by several figures with ink-black leather coats, ghostly white faces, and hair so dark, it was almost blue—five figures, to be exact. Actually, the one at the head of the table didn’t have the same sort of luxurious hair.

  He was bald, but to make up for the lack of hair on his head, he had two thick, wiry eyebrows. He leaned over several scrolls of tan-colored paper that stretched across most of the table and pointed repeatedly at one of them. From this distance, the scrolls looked to be covered in a combination of simple line drawings, which were, in turn, surrounded by smaller scribbles.

  What in the system were they up to?

  As soon as Winnifred and I had crossed the doorway’s threshold, an automated process slammed the doors shut behind us. At the sudden sound of our entry, the vampires all snapped their heads up from the table in unison. Their pointed ears twitched and they all hissed simultaneously, revealing abnormally long and sharp fangs.

  Winnifred and I both instantly activated our weapons. A stocky lady vampire on the left side of the table reached up to her dangling necklace and touched its black vulture-shaped pendant with a bold yellow stone set in its center. As the stone glowed, the edges of her limbs blurred before they lengthened. A moment later, when the transformation was complete, she appeared light, tall, and rail-thin, but her eyes remained fierce. The other black-haired vampires’ identical necklaces began to glow and they underwent a similar change, growing both taller and longer as they left the table.