Outcast, page 21
part #1 of The Grey Gates Series
She felt rather than heard movement behind her and turned to find Grayson’s pair of bodyguards trying to rush her. They were moving fast, attention focused on her. She sidestepped the pair of them, so they rushed headlong into the wall. The collision tripped a hidden latch and a panel of the wall moved, a crack appearing amid the crimson. Max had no time to look inside as the bodyguards were back on their feet, turning to attack her, faces twisted into almost identical expressions of fury.
She ducked under the first wild swing of a fist and grabbed a nearby chair, using it as a shield against the next attack, turning so that her back was against the solid wall. She threw the chair at the pair of bodyguards who were too close together as they surged forward again, then drew her main gun and the small weapon she kept tucked at her back, pointing the weapons at each of the bodyguards.
She heard a loud crack and felt the vibration of a collision through the wall at her back. There was definitely something behind that wall.
“It’s a crime to try and impede a Marshal in the execution of their duty,” she told the bodyguards, voice flat.
They weren’t paying attention to her, or her weapons. Instead, their gaze had gone past her to the sliver of open door. The gap was dark, even darker than the bar, and a trace of that incense along with more primitive scents coiled out of the opening. Earth. Old blood. The faint scent of animal waste. Not things that should be in a city bar.
Then the sound of someone - no, something - breathing. A long sigh of air from a deep chest. Not a sound any human could make.
Max turned her head a fraction, keeping her weapons pointed forwards.
There was a shape moving in the darkness. Large and slow, it was shuffling forward to the open doorway, towards the light and the bar full of people.
Max couldn’t see what it was, but the bodyguards started backing away. Grayson was still standing by the bar, looking furious. The bartender, and the other patrons that Max could see, looked terrified. All conversation had stopped.
A low rumbling sound vibrated the wall at Max’s back. She lowered her weapons, turning her head just as a huge, three-toed, clawed foot shoved the door open. The owner of the foot came forward. A creature on all fours, its shoulders as high as her head. Trails of smoke billowed from its nostrils, curling around the two long, twisting horns that sprouted from its forehead. Its yellow eyes, its pupils vertical slits, looked around, and it opened its lipless mouth to show rows of jagged, yellowing teeth.
“A Keliotrope? Are you kidding me?” Max asked, astonished. She spared a glance at Grayson, still standing by the bar. They were incredibly rare in this part of the world, preferring a far warmer climate. She shoved her back-up weapon into its holster. The smaller gun would be useless against the creature’s thick hide. Her main gun would not be effective, either, but it was better than nothing. She held her gun ready, muzzle pointing at the ground, and slowly backed away from the creature.
The Keliotrope, the only one Max had ever seen alive, turned as if mesmerised to follow her movement. A thin, dark tongue flickered out between those awful teeth, tasting the air. It lowered its head and moved forward on all four clawed feet, its body twice as long as it was tall, a thick tail the same length as its body sliding along the ground behind it.
“Do you have a tranquilliser?” Max asked Grayson as she kept slowly backing up. If what she remembered was correct, then slow and careful movements should not provoke the creature. It had poor eyesight, and was also hampered by the low lighting in the bar and the heavy dose of incense that still hung in the air.
“Not within reach,” Grayson told her.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Max said again. “You have a Keliotrope on the property and no tranquilliser?” The sheer stupidity of was almost unbelievable. Except that this man had thought it was a good idea to have a Keliotrope next to his bar and a room full of people.
“Everything was fine until you arrived,” he snapped at her.
“I am not the idiot who decided to bring a master predator into the heart of the city and try and keep it calm with incense,” she snapped back at him. “Incense, for the love of the Lady. What kind of idiot are you?”
Grayson didn’t answer.
As the creature moved forwards, most of the bar patrons managed to remember the lessons drilled into them from childhood. If you find yourself anywhere near a predator, stay still and let the people with guns deal with it. It was good advice and also stopped too many civilians from getting shot while the people with guns tried to deal with the predator. From the whimpering Max could hear, most of the gathered people were absolutely terrified. She did not blame them.
The stillness and silence held until one of the nearest patrons, a young woman dressed in a skin-tight, black mini-dress, screamed and ran, heading for the door.
“Stay still!” Max yelled.
It was too late. The Keliotrope whipped around, far faster than anything that large should be able to move, and followed the screaming woman. It grabbed hold of her with one claw and opened its mouth, teeth gleaming.
Max shot it. Three rounds, tightly spaced, into its side, the crack of her gun loud in the confined space. The bullets didn’t penetrate the creature’s tough hide, bouncing off and rattling across the floor.
She had got the creature’s attention, though. It dropped the screaming and now bleeding woman, whipping around to face the new threat.
Max kept her gun raised, continuing to back away slowly. The creature turned its head this way and that, trying to work out who had shot it.
The rest of the patrons were staying as still as they could. There was more whimpering, though, and little sounds of pain from the woman on the floor. No one moved to help her. Max could only hope that she survived long enough for the emergency teams to get her.
First things first. Max needed to get the creature away from the innocent people around, and then deal with it. Somehow.
“Have your men open the doors to the street and get out of the way,” Max told Grayson.
“What?” he said.
“Just do it.”
“Do you have any idea how much that creature cost me?” he demanded.
“It could kill everyone in this bar, including you, and you’re worried about cost?” Max spat back at him. “Get the damned doors open before I decide to shoot you instead.”
She heard muttering behind her which suggested Grayson was doing as she asked. She kept backing away, moving in an arc that kept her ahead of the Keliotrope but out of its path to the doors.
A waft of cool air, full of the scent of damp tarmac and car fumes, drifted into the bar. The Keliotrope paused, one foot mid-air, tongue flickering out again. It turned away from Max, heading for the open doors, picking up pace.
Everyone in the bar managed to stay still as the creature left.
Max followed it at a run, arriving at street level just in time to see it climb over one of the sleek vehicles that had been parked outside the bar, leaving great gouge marks from its claws and dents from its weight. The car alarm blared, protesting but useless.
“Cas, Pol, guard it!” she yelled. Her dogs leapt out of the pick-up in one smooth, co-ordinated move and headed for the Keliotrope. Max pulled out her phone and dialled a pre-set number.
“What?” Therese answered.
“There’s a Keliotrope on the loose outside the Sorcerer’s Mistress. I need back-up and containment. And send a medical team. There’s a civilian injured,” Max said. She didn’t wait for Therese’s reply, ending the call and running for her pick-up.
Cas and Pol were standing in front of the Keliotrope, shifted into their attack forms, making themselves look as big and menacing as possible, their long hair raised, low growls threading the air. They sounded deadly enough that the hairs on the back of Max’s neck lifted as she holstered her handgun and scrabbled in the back of the pick-up for a heavier weapon. Something that might actually penetrate the Keliotrope’s hide.
She pulled out the shotgun and the only magazine of armour-piercing shells that she could find, her fingers moving quickly, steady despite her racing heart and dry mouth. She stuffed a pair of magazines of more conventional shells into the loop of her thigh holster.
By the time she was better armed, the Keliotrope was approaching her dogs. All three animals were in the middle of the street, all of them tinted orange by the street lights, locked in a near-silent stand-off.
Cas and Pol were smart enough to retreat from the Keliotrope, keeping its attention on them as Max made her way around the cars on one side of the road, looking for a weak spot on the Keliotrope where she might get a clear shot. She couldn’t see anything. And as tough as her dogs were, their fangs would make no impact on the Keliotrope’s hide.
The creature was getting annoyed at having her dogs in front of it. More smoke billowed out of its mouth and it lowered its head, horns sweeping down. One of those horns could easily rip into her dogs. Or a passer-by. The creature needed to be stopped.
“Hey, ugly!” Max yelled.
The Keliotrope paused, one foot off the ground, tongue flicking out again.
She knelt on the tarmac between a pair of cars, trying to see if she could get an angle on its under-side where the hide might be thinner. In the poor lighting, the creature’s under-side didn’t look different, but she fired at it anyway.
The armour-piercing shell slammed into the Keliotrope’s hide and bounced back, rattling onto the road surface. Max spat a curse.
The Keliotrope turned towards her, its tail lashing out, sweeping Cas off his feet. Her dog righted himself in the air, landing on all four paws, as sure-footed as a cat, fangs bared. The creature whipped its tail around again, slamming into another pair of cars. More alarms blared into the night.
Max had no more attention to spare for her dogs as the Keliotrope was moving towards her, its tongue flickering out to taste the air. It lifted its head and she saw a lighter patch of hide under its chin.
She fired. The armour-piercing shell landed and bit into the creature’s skin. It roared, its head snapping back. Max fired again, emptying the magazine into its neck.
Around her, she was vaguely aware of bright lights and more bodies arriving. She kept her attention on the creature as she reloaded the gun with conventional ammunition. There was a hole to aim for now, a gaping wound in the creature’s neck.
The Keliotrope took a few rapid steps forward, steps uneven.
Max held her ground, weapon ready. Waiting.
“What are you doing? Shoot it!”
She wasn’t sure who the hysterical speaker was. Perhaps one of the residents of the buildings around her. A low voice that she recognised spoke in return. Faddei was here. The Marshals could move quickly when they needed to.
Footsteps behind her made her tense.
“It’s Vanko,” a deep, accented voice said. “Faddei thought you might need back-up.” Max risked a glance across as her fellow Marshal knelt nearby, his own weapon set at his shoulder. He and Faddei were distant cousins, she thought. They had the same overall build, and the same quick minds hidden beneath their muscles. “Tranq rounds?”
“Yes. I used a mag full of armour-piercing shells. Most of them hit home,” she told him, turning her attention back to the creature that was wobbling on its feet.
“Then this big lad should be ready for a nap right about now,” Vanko said, sounding cheerful. “Where did you find it?” he asked.
“In the Sorcerer’s Mistress. The owner had been keeping it sedated with incense.”
“Is he dead?” Vanko asked, in the same cheerful tone.
“Alive last I saw him,” Max answered, tensing as the creature took another step forward.
The Keliotrope shook its head, more smoke emerging from its nostrils, the wound on its neck bleeding sluggishly, then its front legs crumpled, followed by its back legs, sending it to the ground with a thump that shook the street and set off a few more car alarms.
“Finally,” Max said, breathing a sigh of relief.
“Here,” Vanko said. When she turned, he was holding out what looked like a giant syringe full of amber liquid. “Just to be sure it’s asleep. I’ll cover you,” he added.
Which meant she would need to get close enough to the creature to inject it. Her mouth went dry. Getting so close to a creature that might not be completely asleep was dangerous, and something the Marshals only did when necessary. Max took a quick look around. They were on a city street, with people hanging out of their windows in the buildings around them, and still more people gathered on the street, despite the local law enforcement’s attempts to keep them back. A predator like the Keliotrope could do significant damage if left unchecked. Someone had to make sure that it was asleep. And she didn’t have any more armour-piercing cartridges, so it made sense for her to carry the syringe.
Max left her weapon on the ground next to the empty magazine and took the syringe, standing up slowly and making her way towards the Keliotrope with some caution. Its eyes were open, tongue flicking out again as she approached, a long, dark sound emerging from its throat. She carefully avoided the horns, skirting around the head. It was lying partially on its side, one of its forelegs stretched out, revealing slightly paler skin at the joint. There. The syringe should get through that.
Get in with steady, slow movements, be firm, and then get out as fast as you can. The advice from Raymund rang through her head. The Marshal’s scientist was responsible for training all new Marshals how to properly administer sedatives. It was a class he taught on a regular basis. New Marshals were often scornful at the idea they might have to get that close to one of the predators they hunted. More than one of the newbies had suggested that their job was to shoot, and it was the scientists’ job to collect. After their first field experience, the same newbies often went back to the class, sitting alongside the more experienced Marshals as Raymund demonstrated the technique, patiently answering questions that had been asked at least a dozen times before. Max tried to take the class at least once a year, but it had been a very long time since she had had to use the syringe in the field.
Max kept her movements as slow and smooth as she could, hoping that the Keliotrope could not hear her thumping heart or smell her fear. When she was close enough - far too close to the predator - she jammed the syringe into the creature’s armpit with as much force as she could, shoving the plunger home.
As she pulled the syringe out and darted away, the Keliotrope roared, writhing on the ground, its long tail sweeping around, catching Max’s legs and sending her backwards through the air.
She landed with a thump on the roof of one of the sleek vehicles that lined the street, the breath knocked out of her, still holding the empty syringe. The car alarm blared, adding to the cacophony.
The Keliotrope roared again and Max forced herself up, breath coming in shallow, pained gasps. The healing dose Faddei had given her the day before had helped, but the hard landing had woken up the sore patches along her spine, and shoved the ammunition and spare gun she carried against the small of her back. She would have a row of bruises for days.
The creature was trying to get to its feet, and failing, its movements growing more and more sluggish as Max made her way back to Vanko’s side, collecting her weapon.
“It might need another dose,” she said.
“Give it time,” the older Marshal suggested. He had not moved from his position, still ready with his own shotgun. “You okay? That looked like a hard hit.”
“Winded. Bruised,” Max said, eyes on the creature as its struggles to get up slowed, tail sliding across the road surface, its eyes gleaming with impotent fury as the drugs finally did their job. It slumped forward, head landing on the road with a thump Max felt all the way from her boots to her teeth, small trails of smoke still rising from its nostrils as its eyes closed. Finally asleep. Breathing out a sigh of relief, Max glanced at Vanko. “Is the containment team here?”
“Of course,” Faddei’s voice answered from a few paces behind her and Vanko. The leader of the Marshals chuckled. “When Raymund heard there was a Keliotrope, he ran for the vehicles.”
“Raymund ran?” Max asked, sparing a glance over her shoulder to see Faddei’s grin. The scientist was dedicated and careful. She had seen him walking briskly once or twice, but never running. The man himself was standing behind Faddei along with his team, all of them wearing dark cover-alls and all of them almost twitching with apparent eagerness to move forward and see their prize. It was likely that none of them had seen a Keliotrope in the flesh before, either.
“Indeed,” Faddei answered. “Let’s give them some room to work.”
It wasn’t really a suggestion. Max took another look at the Keliotrope before she moved aside, letting the scientists move forward.
Their excited babble rose up in the street, and she realised just how quiet it had become. The car alarms had been silenced. There were still people hanging out of the windows of the buildings around them, and more people gathered on the street, but no one had been talking much. It was possible they were in shock. Creatures were very rare in this part of the city. But Max would still have expected a murmur from the crowd.
She turned slowly, assessing the scene, ignoring the excited scientists, and saw Grayson Forster and his bodyguards standing at the top of the steps that led down to the Sorcerer’s Mistress. Grayson’s face was set in a tight mask of fury. And apart from his bodyguards, no one was standing near him. She remembered her first impression of him as dangerous. It seemed that she was not alone in that feeling.
“Faddei, the Keliotrope came from a room inside the Sorcerer’s Mistress,” Max said. “I didn’t get a chance to look inside.”
“Indeed?” Faddei asked, moving to stand beside her, also looking at Grayson Forster standing outside his bar. “You think there might be more to find?” he asked, sounding thoughtful.
