by Kat Quinn
One last assessing look around the room and I conclude that the majority of what I may need, but also may not easily replace on a whim, has been accounted for—condensed into this single duffle bag. As well as my trouser pockets. Still, a part of me regrets the need to downsize and clamors to make fewer concessions. Perhaps I’ve grown too comfortable; there were plenty of times where I accomplished far more with far less. Additionally, it’s not fully certain that we will be unable to reacquire our belongings in the future. Discussions have not yet been made as to the expected timeline of our escape and recuperation. It has not been indicated that we are to permanently adopt a nomadic lifestyle; it’s just as likely we’re to be relocated indefinitely, or given an opportunity to find an unrestrictive shelter while calculating an effective series of moves.
I can probably justify accidentally stealing a couple extra shirts though, right? They like when I wear their shirts. I like when I wear their shirts!
Oh, and duh! Stubbs needs stuff too, right? I’ll just go right on ahead and stow away his food and things. That’s totally helpful! Hmm… Still half a bag left, though. Books? Snacks? Maybe just a pillow? Is there a guidebook around here for how and what to shove into a sack when you’re planning on running with more than the clothes on your back? What a luxury!
This is like a zillion times more than I normally use; means it’s time to close up the patient and deposit this package to the mothership, yes? Yes! Definitely ready for blastoff, Houston!
Zipping up my own, hefty bag, a grunt involuntarily wedges its way out as I sling the weighty receptacle over my shoulder, slamming into my back with surprising force. Dizzy may have a point; perhaps a pillow would have been wiser than actual rocks. While I understand the convenience of taking with us what we assume will be needed, I question the practicality of relying on certainty if we expect uncertainty. Is this venture not entirely dependent upon our ability to adapt at a moment’s notice? The notion that we will not be forced to discard items along the way is peculiar. Perhaps it’s wise to take a tip from Dizzy’s experience and learn not to consider anything as vital for basic operation at all.
I am not looking forward to discovering what may be required if I no longer have a stock of conveniences easily at the ready.
Lin slips out of his room ahead of me, two swords sheathed around his waist, a small duffel in one hand, black violin case in the other. I suppose we all have frivolities we wish to preserve. With great care, he quietly clicks closed the door before descending the stairs. I follow.
“Five more minutes, guys—let’s get a move on!” Monty’s deep voice reverberates throughout the house.
Kieran can be heard slamming drawers and throwing objects around his room. This is followed by a growl, then loud crash that rumbles through the floor. Given his previously sparse, animalistic lifestyle, I am uncertain why this task should cause such difficulty.
As I exit the front door and place my packed bag on the pile in the back of the SUV, I turn to admire the house that has been our home for most of a decade. If we find a satisfactory way to solve our current predicament, I look forward to returning.
Monty crosses through the open doorway, Colonel Stubbs excitedly nipping at his heels. The white dog hops into the opened trunk, scrabbling to climb the swelling peak of our belongings.
Connor and Dizzy are leaning with their backs against the side of the black vehicle, fingers locked together as they often are. His thumb works slow circles into the back of her hand while she rests her head against his shoulder. Aria’s large, fluffy tail flicks slowly around Dizzy’s neck, body tucked discreetly into her jacket hood. The motion pauses suddenly, black poof pulling into the cavernous hood, replaced instead by Aria’s thin, pointed snout barely peeking out. Wet nose glistening, her bright golden eyes glow within the deep shadows. She sniffs the air, nostrils twitching.
Both hands cupped around his mouth as a megaphone, I watch as Monty yells. “Ay, yo, rotten egg, we’re waiting on you!”
Thunderous footfalls pound against the stairs, almost loud enough to drown out the sudden, pained yelp that causes my head to whip around instantly. It takes a moment to process the blood now streaking down both Connor and Dizzy’s linked arms, multiple shrapnel punctures their points of origin.
The hell? What… just happened? Dizzy pokes at one of the wounds, thoughts not yet caught up to the pain; surprise the most effective anesthetic. Connor is caught in shock, eyes perplexed as he visually takes in their predicament.
Her bracelets. Multiple of them have hag stones missing, their shattered pieces embedded within her and Connor’s forearms from an explosive force.
I look up, eyes scanning around the property line, squinting once I identify a humanoid figure along the tree line, arms stretched forward. Just outside the boundaries of our protection, something on four legs crosses over.
Before I can alert the others, an enormous, rust-colored mass blurs past me; Kieran’s wolf charging straight for the intruder.
“We’re under attack!” I shout, as more forms reveal themselves at our borders, all of them shifting to various animals as they cross into our yard. In less than a moment, over a dozen beasts are within our sanctuary, more humans and animals just beyond the edges.
Sharp talons tear into my shoulder from behind, the wicked beak of a hawk attempting to rip at my face as I instinctively try to swat it away. Silver flashes before my eyes, the attacking creature’s body severed as Lin slices it in half, releasing me from its clutches.
“How were they able to break through?” He says, stance defensive and at the ready as he quickly assesses the situation, noting the circle of bodies breaching our defenses from all angles.
Pulling a ring from my finger and sending a small trickle of magic to its inscription, the ring expands into a chakram; a sharpened throwing circle with a dull bar bisecting the inner ring. It’s part of a set, the twin band still left on my hand. “This should not be possible,” I state, attempting to assess our options in this scenario.
Kieran howls, the remains of two mangled bodies beneath his hefty paws. Two coyote bodies. A decapitated hawk at my feet. Lions, foxes, a bear. Everything within the perimeter of our defenses is a shifter, the majority of those outside it remain humanoid in form. Animals are permitted on the grounds, but if they have intent to harm they’re barred from entry; this shouldn’t be possible.
“Well, apparently it is,” Monty says, both fists raised to his face beside me.
Lin turns, back facing my own. “Plan?” He asks.
“Fight,” I say, arm winding back to release the chakram towards a hyena bounding our way. Its teeth are bared, running at full speed towards our cluster. My chakram embeds itself in the creature’s foreleg in an attempt to disable, but it doesn’t slow despite a nearly-severed leg; singular focus on reaching its target. Running a thumb along the weapon’s partner still on my finger, it returns to me, instantly appearing in my opened palm.
A wall of muscle slams into Monty and myself from the side, bowling us over like pins lined up in an alley, wind knocked from us both as we land hard on our backs. In a flash, Lin’s sword is there, sinking into the swinging arm of our attacker as a dense paw seeks to rend our faces from our skulls. Unfazed by this, its claws continue on their path, blasted away mere millimeters before making contact at the same time Dizzy screeches.
Rolling to the side and jumping to my feet once more, I catch a glimpse of her, both hands thrust out in front, bent forward at the waist, legs parted wide. The wounded bear is a few dozen yards away, massive body limp as it lies motionless in the grass.
Oh shit, thank fuck, holy crap, thank you random unpredictable nonsense magic, you’re an actual literal lifesaver and it would be super duper great if you don’t let us down, okay, please and thank you.
I can hear her quick breathing from my place only a few feet away, but don’t have time to check her state; relying on faith that her magic will keep her and us protected, as it did during practice. E
ven if it is unwise to put stock into something so uncertain and under-tested.
Connor and Monty wrestle with a wolf, Monty repeatedly bashing it in the face with a fist as Connor tries to hold it still. Pulling from one of my tattoos, I activate a shield, the dense layer of magic coating my skin and defending against the brunt of most physical blows. Lin kihaps as he swings, shouting while his blade relieves a raven of its wings. The bird still attempts to scrabble on its legs towards us, but is no match for Lin’s decisive sword.
Focusing solely on saving all of us, I instinctively toss and recall my chakram again and again, some targets eliminated with a single blow, others requiring an alarmingly copious amount of attacks. Their advance isn’t halted until their hearts are. Lin pulls his second sword, dual-wielding blades to defend, but sticking tightly to our small group.
Around us, the circle of attackers starts to choke in, attempting to trap us within its noose. At this point, there’s an uncountable mass of beasts single-mindedly charging at us, our numbers severely outmatched. If they manage to cinch the knot tight, our chances at survival become infinitesimal.
Where are they coming from? How were they able to ambush so effectively with such massive numbers? It’s becoming difficult to see beyond the haired, feathered, and scaled bodies forming their own horizon.
A thin black form rockets past my sight line, Aria on a kamikaze path to intercept a squirrel launching itself at my face. Surprised, I stumble back a step; the small creature not one I had detected or anticipated. She tackles the squirrel to the ground, letting loose a loud shriek that sends a full-body shudder through the creature before completely incapacitating it. Leaping up and backwards, she twists in the air to swipe by my ear, a sharp pain ripping at my earlobe as she roughly yanks an earring loose while passing. Reaching up to cup the partially-torn lobe, an explosion is triggered behind me before I even make contact. The earring she stole was a miniature bomb, one that detonated into a charging rhino’s skull before it could impale anyone. A rhino that wasn’t even on my radar until Aria had already solved the problem.
One baboon tackles Connor to the ground as I throw my chakram at another, Monty and Lin already engaged with their own opponents and unable to stop it from raking its blunt nails into Connor’s skin so hard it draws blood. A lot of blood. Within seconds, the primate rips into nearly every visible inch of skin, digging furiously at Connor as though attempting to burrow straight through him. With a swipe of my finger, the chakram returns quickly, but not as quickly as Dizzy, who dives head-first towards Connor and the baboon, butting her skull against its chest and knocking it off of the fallen man, whose body she covers with her own as he begins to convulse uncontrollably.
“We can’t keep this up!” Monty shouts. “There’s too many of them!” I look around again, trying to single out my next target among the seemingly-endless mass multiplying around us.
No no no no… no? Dizzy’s internal voice becomes confused. Well, this is definitely new. Just gonna… uh… scoot away slowly?
Sparing a quick glance in her direction, I watch as she starts to back up off of Connor, whose wounds are releasing long, smoky tendrils. His eyes are wide, but fully engulfed in blackness—just as they were the first night David attacked us. Rising without moving a muscle, as though levitating to a standing position like a vampire from its coffin, Connor returns to his feet, a writhing mass of black cushioning around him. Both arms raise, and from them shoot forth an inky tentacle, skewering multiple opponents in one motion.
Through the gap Connor created, Kieran comes bounding in, orange pelt matted flat with a thick coating of dark blood. Three gashes ooze red from his flank, but he doesn’t seem affected by the wounds, easily snatching up a snake in his mouth and flinging it aside as he rushes to rejoin us.
As if a possessed conductor, Connor raises his arms, swinging them, thrusting them, occasionally rotating around; more shadows bursting forth and following his commands. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t even blink his haunting black stare, but does continue to help mow through the still-growing menagerie of opponents.
Perhaps this is exactly the advantage we need to turn the tides.
Continuing with our own attacks, Lin and I sever limbs with our blades. Kieran fights tooth and claw against anything that comes within reach. Aria disables small opponents before they can sneak up on us. Dizzy largely dodges, staying out of the way until one of us is in danger, instinct forcing her to protect. She’s sobbing all the while, her thoughts torn between mourning the lives being lost, and confusion about every single aspect of our situation. Despite the internal conflict, she’s determined not to give up.
I watch as Monty raises both his hands to defend against a Moose barreling straight for him, only for it to immediately drop dead upon making contact, Monty stumbling and falling back from the initial force. He scrabbles to his feet, breathing heavily. We’re all breathing heavily.
This is not an army we could have anticipated, or even hoped to survive against, but as we continue to try to thin the ranks, it almost looks as though we’re starting to gain the upper hand.
Until we aren’t.
The shadows Connor controls start to stutter in and out of existence, their movements slowing as his body stretches towards its breaking point. More and more beasts slip through our defenses, our small group still completely overwhelmed by their seemingly infinite numbers. The biggest obstacle being the unending drive of our opponents, who keep coming regardless of wounds that would ordinarily disable anyone. Despite our best efforts, the circle around us tightens, the bulk of our enemy within a ten-foot reach. Some further, some closer.
With one final, long, painful screech, a few dark projectiles blast from within Connor, who collapses onto the ground in a heap. His last attack barely makes a dent in the remaining swarm, but their ranks are significantly thinned compared to a few minutes prior. Perhaps two dozen or more remain around us, though I can still see a great many figures just beyond the boundary of our home’s wards. Some of them are shouting. Others remain stoic, unmoving. One, a shadow creature, the familiar pinpricks of its glowing red eyes just barely recognizable from this distance.
There’s a delay between the next time I recall my chakram, and when it actually arrives. Knowing this means it’s reaching the end of its stored charge, and knowing full well I could not sustain its use once depleted, I grip it by the bar through the center and use it to swing at anything that gets too close. My range may have been removed, but that does not mean it’s time to give in.
“Not to put any pressure on, but I do believe it would be wise to make a retreat if possible,” Lin offers in forced breaths between attacks. One of his arms hangs loosely by his side, white sleeve shredded and stained with blood. A sword by his hip returned to its scabbard, the other still swinging as well as he can muster.
Monty’s fists connect with less force behind them, thudding dully while making blind contact. Whatever he did to stop some opponents with a single touch seems to be beyond his mental and physical abilities at the moment. His eyelids droop heavily, each breath laborious, shoulders slumping forward as he struggles to stay on target. The man looks downright haggard. Dizzy and Aria hover over Connor’s collapsed form, keeping his would-be assailants at bay, but taking a few minor hits in the process. Kieran’s so coated in blood it’s difficult to tell how much of it is his, and how much isn’t. Despite that, he and I are the only ones who display any remaining stamina.
Lin’s right; we need to retreat. There are still a few tricks up my sleeve, literally. I may be able to grant a big enough window to make an escape, but pulling from the stored spells in my tattoos rends them useless until reapplication. Assuming reapplication is even possible. If I use this, we won’t have another shot.
“I’ll make a hole. Get to the car.” Swatting aside another bird with the flat of my chakram, I reach with one hand to activate the destructive blast inscribed into my skin. It can, and will, fully obliterate anything in its path, inc
luding my own arm if I don’t channel it correctly.
At the edge of my vision, just to the right, three gorillas take shape and stampede towards our crowd. The swarm parts for them as they barrel directly at our withering forces, Connor and Dizzy closest to where they break through. To her credit, Dizzy manages to fend off one of the hulking beasts, felling it with two bolts of blue lighting that burst from her hands, flinging the petite woman back a few feet with their concussive force. One gorilla crumples to the ground, just as a second climbs its back and leaps towards Dizzy with a fearsome roar, long canines on full display. If I shoot in that direction to defend her and Connor, I’ll kill them in the process, without question.
Kieran and Lin charge towards the roaring gorilla, abandoning their places on the opposite side of its path, breaking our own circle of defense. In effect, I’m left alone to keep 20-30 murderous creatures at bay while they hold back one capable of truly significant destruction.
If they can do that, then I can do this. Pulling the chakram’s twin ring from my finger, I release its bladed form, wielding them both simultaneously. Swinging, twisting, never pausing, I am a windmill of destruction, taking down a surprisingly significant number of foes with both blades. My personal shield holds, giving me the advantage once an opponent is within reach, even if they manage to land a blow. All, if not most, of the force is absorbed, only a few small scratches making their way through to skin; scratches which would have otherwise likely ended in severed limbs.
There is nothing but the fight, all thoughts and sounds melting away as I focus everything into my attack. I’m in a frenzy, blindly swinging at any movement within reach, trusting my allies will stay outside the deadly range until another opening presents itself.
