The Fae Killers Compendium

by Jaxon Reed

  FOOM! FOOM!

  The scientists exploded in a bloody mess just as eight spikes struck the fae simultaneously.

  KABLOOM!

  An even bigger explosion ripped off the fae’s outer shell. It blew away his human flesh as the spikes struck home. A small, dark gray body fell out of the air and landed on the floor with a splat!

  Nancy floated down and gently walked over, in no hurry. She stepped over dismembered arms and legs, and around pools of blood.

  The fae’s little body trembled with a death rattle, the spikes embedded deep and pinning him to the floor. She looked down at Felix’s true form: four feet tall and transparent gray skin revealing his organs and blood. A lot less blood now, she thought. The clear fluid seeped from eight puncture wounds.

  Felix’s bulbous head turned as Nancy approached, large white eyes struggling to stay open. His slit of a mouth curled back in a snarl.

  “You think you have won, huntress . . .”

  He coughed, and some clear oily liquid spurt out of his mouth, trickling down his chin.

  “You think you have won . . . but each time . . . we are gaining . . .”

  He coughed once more, then his eyes closed at last.

  Nancy reached into a pocket of her overalls and pulled out a handful of artificial microbes that looked like dust. She threw them down on the small gray body and they immediately went to work, consuming the fae’s flesh. She watched the body rapidly dissolve for a moment, then turned away and headed toward the damaged entrance.

  The spikes fell out of the disintegrating body to the floor and quickly rolled back together, reforming the lance. She held her hand out without looking and it rushed to her. It shortened to its original length and she pocketed it again.

  As Nancy walked out the front, human body parts and blood disappeared, along with all traces of the scientists and their white lab coats.

  She raised her hand as she walked toward the cars and made a reverse twisting motion in the air. Instantly, the building began repairing itself. Wood and nails and plaster and asbestos quickly flew to their original locations and the building reassembled.

  She pulled her hand in a sweeping motion as she approached the jumble of cars out front. They scooted back to their original parked locations, dents popping out and scrapes covering back up in paint. The wrecked truck likewise repaired itself, the holes in the sheet metal mending, dents straightening, shattered glass flying into place and melting together again.

  She walked over to edge of the parking lot near the truck and said, “You can send Rick back, Cait.”

  Moments later, a thin blue-green vertical line appeared beside her. When it grew wide enough, Rick poked his head through, a whiff of wisteria flowing through the gap with him.

  He looked around cautiously, then stepped all the way through. Glancing at the building, his head snapped back in surprise as the final loose boards flew back into place.

  “It’s like it never happened,” he said, his voice edged with awe.

  “Cait did most of the work,” Nancy said, with a smile.

  “But, Cait was back there with me,” Rick said.

  “Her human interface was. But some of her processing power is still working over here.”

  “Oh. I see.”

  Nancy glanced at him with an eyebrow raised. It appeared obvious Rick did not fully understand. He seemed willing to accept it, though.

  In the distance, they heard a bus approaching, its loud diesel engine growling as the driver shifted gears. Dumbfounded, Rick stood beside Nancy as the vehicle pulled into the parking lot and stopped. The door opened and a scientist stepped out wearing a white lab coat. He nodded cheerfully at the couple, then headed toward the building.

  Two more followed, then Einstein and Oppenheimer stepped out, laughing at some private joke one of them had shared. They continued in conversation on their way inside, arguing over whether Karl May ever visited America or not.

  When the last scientist exited the bus the driver closed its door, put it in gear and drove out of the parking lot.

  Rick furrowed his brows, looking for all the world like a confused puppy.

  “What’s going on here? Weren’t all those men inside a few minutes ago? I heard screams.”

  Nancy smiled sweetly and said, “Well, let’s just say Felix was not the only one who can make clones.”

  She watched as the last scientist went through the newly repaired door, oblivious to all the previous destruction.

  She said, “I think ours were more realistic.”

  Chapter 9

  Back at the apartment Marcie hugged Rick and Nancy when they stepped through, then hurried to boil some water for coffee. They told her a little of their routine the last few days, and Nancy gave a brief account of their victory over Felix.

  For his part, Socks crawled up into Nancy’s lap and promptly went to sleep.

  “I’m so glad it’s all over,” Marcie said, sipping the last from her cup. “What will you do now?”

  Nancy smiled and said, “Now, I’m going back home.”

  “Oh. I think your landlord has let it out already.”

  “My real home, Marcie. I don’t belong here anymore, remember?”

  Marcie’s face fell. She said, “You’re sure you can’t stay? I wish you didn’t have to go!”

  Nancy stood suddenly, dumping Socks out of her lap.

  “I know. But don’t worry. I’ll see you on the other side. You accepted God’s gift through his Son, right?”

  Marcie nodded and said, “When I was a little girl.”

  Nancy walked over and hugged her again.

  Rick cleared his throat and said, “I’ll see you out, Nance.”

  Together they walked to the door. Rick went out into the hall. Nancy turned and waved at Marcie while closing the door. Marcie waved back, crying. Nancy watched for a moment longer, leaving the door open a crack.

  Marcie wiped her tears away, then turned and stared at the coffee cups on the table, scratching her head and appearing confused. Finally she shrugged, picked them up, and carried everything to the sink.

  Nancy closed the door softly and caught up with Rick near the stairs.

  He said, “Looks like Marcie’s taking your leaving pretty hard.”

  “She’s already forgotten me.”

  “What do you mean, forgotten? How is that possible?”

  “We call it a wipe. Cait has taken the memory of me these last few days out of her mind. To Marcie, it’s like I was never here. We’ll let her keep the coffee, though. She won’t be able to figure out where it came from, but I think she deserves it.”

  They walked down the steps and out to the street below. Nancy headed for an alley free of people. When they got there, Rick cleared his throat again.

  He said, “Uh, is that what’s going to happen to me? A wipe of my memory?”

  Nancy said, “It’s probably for the best, Rick. You have a long life ahead of you. You don’t need to be remembering everything that’s happened these last few days, it’ll just get in your way.”

  He shook his head and gripped her shoulders, gently. He said, “These last few days with you have been precious. They’ve been the best days of my life. Don’t take them from me, Nance. Don’t let your computer take them, or Jason, or anybody else.

  “I’ll live my life, like you say I need to. I’ll meet that stewardess and marry her, and we’ll have kids and retire in the Catskills. I’ll love her and treat her well, and be a good dad. But don’t take this from me, this memory of you and me . . . the two of us living in a small town, in a little white house with a picket fence.”

  He started to cry. A single tear rolled down his cheek. He said, “Even if it was only for a few days . . . that’s the way it was supposed to be. It’s what could have been, if you hadn’t been killed. Spending time together. Eating meals together. Going to work in the morning. Playing cards at night.”

  Nancy wiped away a tear of her own. She said, “You suck at cards.” />
  He nodded happily. “I do. I’m terrible. But I want to remember every hand, every moment playing with you.”

  He bent and kissed her, softly on the lips. Nancy pressed her hands against his chest, gently, and pulled away.

  She sniffled and said, “See you around, Rick.”

  She turned and walked through a narrow sliver of blue-green light and into a field of purple flowers.

  In the Wildflower Room, Nancy headed toward the path, and wiped another tear as the blue-green sliver closed on the alley behind her. Cait’s human interface stood waiting for her at the path’s terminus.

  Nancy said, “I’m beat, Cait. I don’t want to go out again until I’ve had a chance to stay in bed a couple days.”

  “Our temporal crisis has been averted. Alternate 2108a’s timeline has been restored to its proper trajectory. The Allies win World War II, and the chaos of that world’s final days has been restored to its proper dates.”

  “Good.”

  Nancy stepped to one side of the computer, heading for the path to the rowan door and the gas-lit foyer beyond.

  “There is one more thing.”

  Nancy stopped and turned. She raised her eyebrows, waiting.

  “Jason is bringing a new recruit. You will have to train him.”

  Nancy’s heart leapt in her chest. A smile quickly grew into a toothy grin.

  “Is it who I think it is?”

  Cait nodded, as a new blue-green sliver appeared in the field of wisteria. A shaft of supernatural light flowed through the slit in reality, along with the sounds of angelic music in the distance. Two men walked through.

  Jason and Rick stopped as the doorway behind them shrank and collapsed. Rick took a deep breath of the scented air and said, “Ah! Just the way I remember it!”

  Nancy quickly made her way to the men. She hugged Rick, and held him tight for a moment. The Walker coughed politely and they finally broke apart.

  Jason said, “Rick has been enjoying the afterlife in his alternate’s heaven, but recently discovered the door opening for another way to serve.”

  Rick nodded happily and said, “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d ever be allowed to hunt fae. I was always met with a stony wall of silence from all my inquiries the last 300 years. I thought the Army had the worst bureaucracy. Ha!”

  Jason said, “One of the reasons he was discouraged from pursuing this line of work is that somebody knew of the chronological disparities that would be involved until now. So, essentially, he was blocked from joining us at the highest level, if you know what I mean.”

  Rick spread his arms wide and grinned down at Nancy. He said, “But now here I am, ready and willing. I just need somebody to train me. It’s been a few centuries since I threw iron at a fae.”

  Nancy smiled and hooked her arm in his. She guided him down the path toward the gentle hill and the rowan door beyond it.

  “I think I can handle that assignment. First you’ll need to meet a friend of mine named Buster. He’ll help you learn how to fight. I think he’s repaired and functional by now . . .”

  They walked slowly down the path, chatting together. The Walker and Cait remained behind, watching them go.

  Jason said, “They make a nice couple.”

  Cait nodded and said, “Their personalities match almost exactly. Physically, they are congruent without the need for anatomical corrections or enhancements. Intellectually . . .”

  She trailed off as Jason tuned her out and headed for the door on his own. He glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

  “Come on, you old bucket of bolts. Get back to your desk.”

  “I am not a ‘bucket of bolts.’ I am a Computerized Artificial Intelligence Terminal. You programmed me, you should know by now . . .”

  But he had already walked out of earshot.

  On a hill overlooking the secret town of Oakwood in the Tennessee River Valley, two ghostly apparitions fluttered into existence. They were barely perceptible in the physical realm. If a human looked directly toward them, they would escape notice. The only clue to their presence might be a subtle movement in the corner of an eye, or some other brief anomaly that would most likely be dismissed as a trick of the light.

  Their spiritual presence along with a cloaking spell precluded detection by Cait’s sensors. The two presences knew this, and did not discuss it. But the fact they needed to remain in the spiritual realm was not lost on them.

  Neither spoke for a long time. Had they cared, they would have known the time: five o’clock.

  The secret town below them betrayed the hour as doors to buildings suddenly opened and a stream of humanity came out. People flooded the streets, quickly flowing to the residential neighborhoods then trickling into houses.

  More minutes passed. The wind blew through the trees and grass, and through the ghostly apparitions watching the town below.

  Finally, one of them spoke. He said, “Another failure.”

  The other one turned and regarded the fae beside him, clearly visible in the spirit realm. They remained in their natural forms. His companion stood two inches shorter, and seemed less wizened, less aged. He knew this was merely a trick of appearance. All fae were the same age.

  The taller one said, “I prefer not to consider them failures. They were sacrifices, earning valuable knowledge for those of us left behind. Knowledge we will use in the battles to come.”

  “It’s too great a sacrifice. Our lives are precious. We can live indefinitely, but once killed we face God and his justice. That means the fiery lake. Oblivion.”

  The shorter one’s spirit shuddered at the thought, and the taller one’s mood grew more somber. They stared at the town below in silence for a while.

  The shorter one spoke again. “How did you convince our brothers to do these things? How did you talk them into sacrificing their lives just so you could learn more of the hunters?”

  Something approaching a smile flickered briefly on the taller one’s mouth. He said, “They did not think they would fail.”

  The shorter one stepped back in shock as full realization of the deception sunk in. He did not speak again for several moments.

  Finally, he said, “But you knew they would.” His tone was not an accusation. It came out more like a realization. “And what have we learned? What have their deaths taught us that we don’t know already?”

  “I should think that is obvious. Now we know where our artifacts are stored. Hence, we know where the hunters are. We know where they live, so to speak. We know we can travel to where they are via my links. We know what sort of defenses to expect when we attack again. We know their weak spots. We know how to destroy their computers, their records. We know all sorts of things we did not know before.”

  He paused as several people converged on the baseball diamond at the edge of town. They waved to one another and quickly took up positions around the field. Someone started pitching and others lined up to bat. The first batter hit the ball and it soared high in the air. The left fielder ran back and caught it in his glove. A second later the distant crack of the bat reached the fae on top of the hill.

  The shorter one returned his attention to the conversation. He said, “And this? What did this accomplish besides losing Felix?”

  Below, the next batter hit a ground ball. The shortstop ran to grab it and missed. The ball rolled into the outfield and the batter made it to first base.

  The taller fae said, “This yielded the most valuable piece of knowledge yet. It showed us the Walker is willing to cheat in order to beat us.”

  The shorter one snorted. “We manipulate timelines all the time.”

  “True. But once a timeline is established, we leave it alone just as the hunters do. The fact he used this anomaly we created to send a recruit back, one that we are responsible for him having, is . . . troubling. I can see in retrospect that part of the plan was a bad idea.”

  The pitcher seemed to warm up and threw two strikes in a row.

  The shorter one s
aid, “It’s too bad we can’t travel back to the beginning. Do things differently on Original Earth.”

  “I’ve tried.”

  The shorter one’s head rocked back in surprise. He said, “You tried intervening in our own timelines? When?”

  “Oh, it was a long time ago. It doesn’t work. Any effort to return to a timeline in which you were present . . . can’t happen. Must be a God thing.”

  “But the girl . . .”

  The taller one nodded. “It’s particularly fitting the Walker used one of Felix’s own victims to defeat him. She could return here at the point of her death without affecting her past.”

  “Hm. Irony.”

  “Or justice, if you’re looking at it from the human perspective.”

  The shorter one snorted again.

  A batter hit the ball. This one sailed up and over the outfield fence. Cheers from the small crowd in the stands floated on the wind as two players rounded the bases.

  The shorter one said, “So what do we do with our newfound knowledge? Send someone else to their death?”

  “Now we find their weakest moment, and exploit it to the fullest.”

  The next batter hit a high popup ball. The pitcher called for it, waving off his basemen. He caught it neatly in his glove.

  “You see the game. The pitcher is getting better. He has let two runners score, but he’s warming up. His mistakes will be lessons he can use to win the game.”

  “If it were me,” the shorter one said, “and if I cared, I would give his ball a little magic touch to make sure he wins.”

  “A move like that is sure to attract the hunters’ attention, especially on a world like this, filled with their sensors.”

  “How would you do it, then?”

  “I would befriend the pitcher. Perhaps become his coach. I would show him how to cheat, how to hide an emery board or a strip of sandpaper in his glove or his shoe so that he can alter stitches on the ball without others seeing, and thus affecting its throw in unexpected ways. I would teach his teammates how to read signals from the opposing team so they would know what to expect when facing the other pitcher. I would encourage them to hollow out their bats, filling them with cork so they could swing faster and hit farther. In short, I would exploit every advantage to make sure he and his teammates were successful. And you don’t need magic to do that. Just a willingness to cheat and the drive to invest an appropriate amount of time in corrupting people.”