Of Blood and Ashes

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Of Blood and Ashes Page 25

by Kyoko M


  Silence. Wind whistled overhead. Leaves rustled. The trees swayed and moaned in the darkness.

  Snow's voice came out a bare whisper.

  "I'm sorry."

  Jack screamed as a bullet tore into his left side.

  Behind him, Aisaka choked and tumbled backwards to the ground. Jack gasped as pain crept through his upper body like acid and blood soaked through the thick material of the suit. He swayed, nearly collapsing, his legs rubbery from the sheer intensity of the pain. As he stumbled, he spotted Aisaka on the ground behind him with an identical wound spreading black blood out through the top half of her bulletproof vest. She was shorter than him. The round had hit the meaty section of her shoulder and had torn a chunk of the muscle away entirely.

  Her black doll's eyes were still aimed at Jack, and he could see a deep, rotten hatred filling them as she lay there twitching on the ground, the life leaking out of her.

  Her lip curled. Jack knew what she was going to do a second before she did it.

  She raised the gun with her working arm and pulled the trigger.

  But by then, Jack had already moved.

  Roaring, Jack stomped on her injured upper body. He heard a sickening crunch as his boot completely shattered her collarbone and dislocated her shoulder. She screamed--a loud, high-pitched wail like a coyote dying with its leg in a trap.

  Panting, Jack collapsed to one knee over her and batted the gun out of her reach. Something ugly and cruel rose up inside him as he stared down at the dying woman.

  "Now you know how it feels," Jack whispered. "To be helpless and in pain. How does it feel, Aisaka?"

  She convulsed once, twice, as if trying to speak, but she had nothing left. Jack's lips moved on their own.

  "Die well."

  Aisaka Tomoda gurgled one final time before she went still.

  What little strength Jack had left vanished. He pitched over onto his back next to the dead woman, one hand still clutching the bullet wound.

  A second later, Snow threw herself to the ground beside him, her knife in her hand. She slashed open the hole in his suit and quickly analyzed the severity of the wound. The round had hit Aisaka dead on, but it had left a nasty perforation along Jack's ribs. His entire side was soaked with blood and the suit sagged with its wet weight.

  "You shot me," Jack wheezed in disbelief. "You actually fucking shot me!"

  "She would have killed us both, you bloody idiot," Snow growled, ripping open her miniature First Aid kit and sifting through the items quickly.

  "Do you know why I'm bloody? Because you fucking shot me."

  "Hold still!" The Scottish woman said through clenched teeth, wadding up gauze and then tearing off strips of medical tape. Jack bit off curses as she tightly pulled against his blood-slicked skin and secured the gauze over it. His bruised ribs had been nothing compared to this. Fire ate at his entire chest and up through his neck and shoulder. Every breath was like boiling hot poison filling his lungs. His upper body felt like shredded meat.

  "This won't hold you for long," Snow said. "There aren't any sutures in this kit, and even if there were, I'm no surgeon. We've got to get you back to your doctor lass."

  "Maybe you shouldn't have shot me, then."

  Snow leaned over him, her frosty eyes narrowed. "You would be dead if I hadn't made that shot, Jackson. Are you going to lie there and die or are you going to get up and follow me out of this damned, cursed forest?"

  Maybe it was the pain, the fear, the lingering clutch of the drugs in his system, or his own pure stubbornness, but something in him made Jack offer his hand to the woman above him. She gripped it hard and hauled him to his feet. She wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kept the rifle loose in her other hand, squinting into the distance as she tried to figure out what direction they would be heading in.

  Jack shuddered as he felt the blood soaking his bandages nearly the moment after he'd risen to his feet. He could feel it draining out of his face. A weary icy-cold sensation wrapped itself around his limbs. The pain suddenly gave way to blissful numbness. He wasn't a medical doctor, but he was pretty damned sure that wasn't a good thing.

  "Snow," he slurred. "Not looking too good here."

  "Shut up," the Scottish woman said, tugging on his large frame until he started forward along with her, step by step, back up the hill. "You're going to live through this, Jackson. You're too stupid to die."

  Jack tried to laugh. It came out a wheedling hiccup. "Gee, thanks. You should do motivational speeches and then cap them off by shooting your audience."

  "I saved your life."

  "By shooting me."

  "I swear to all the stars in the night sky, I have ne'er hated another person on this earth as much as I hate you."

  Again, Jack's hiccuping laugh leaked out of his throat. They made it to the top of the hill and he had to rest to regain his breath.

  Only to lose it a second later as he realized there were shapes moving towards them in the dark.

  "Well," he said, smiling sadly down at her. "For what it's worth, you're a helluva fighter. Sorry you got mixed up in all of this."

  Snow stiffened as she realized what he was saying, and her eyes darted towards the danger. She swore and propped him up against a nearby tree as she checked the rounds on the rifle.

  Jack shut his eyes. He didn't want to see it coming.

  Then, something else caught his attention.

  The sound of a helicopter.

  Jack's eyes slid open to see a spotlight sweeping through the forest several yards away and an exhausted, lopsided grin pulled at his mouth.

  "They're no Gina Torres, but I'll take it."

  Gunfire filled the air. Snow grabbed him and dragged him out of the way as she heard the yakuza on the ground shouting and trying to flee, but the military aboard the helicopter took them out with what seemed like extreme prejudice. In only seconds, the area had been cleared and tethers unfurled from the cockpit, spilling the good guys out into the woods below.

  Snow shouted at them to hurry over as she tried to lug the tall scientist to his feet, but his legs wouldn't hold. He slumped to the ground in a boneless heap.

  "Come on," Snow shouted, slapping his pale cheek to rouse him. "Come on, damn you! She's right there! Your lass is right there not five yards away, Jackson! Don't you dare give up now!"

  "Kam," Jack mumbled, trying to open his eyes, but his lids were too heavy. He was so tired. He just wanted to rest. Everything had gotten so dark now. It was all over, wasn't it? Why couldn't he rest?

  Kamala's boots hit the ground a second before the stretcher the men had lowered did. She unhooked herself and raced over to Snow and the men, to where Jack lay motionless.

  "Jack!" Kamala cried, ripping off her gloves, desperate to feel him, to remind herself that he was real and alive. His skin was cold to the touch. "Jack, it's me! Open your eyes!"

  His brown eyes rolled under their lids and just barely she could see them through his lashes. "Kam...sorry...I'm so sorry, Kam..."

  "Stay with me," she whispered, trembling all over, her heart fluttering in her chest. "It's okay, Jack. I'm here. Please, stay with me."

  "Tried to hold on," he mumbled. "Should have...told you..."

  She shook her head. "You did. You did tell me, remember? You told me you loved me. And I wasn't ready then, but I know that I am now. Rhett, I love you. So you have to stay with me."

  She shivered as she felt him lift a weak hand to the side of her face, an almost unconscious gesture of love, his thumb grazing over her cheek where hot tears had fallen. She felt him tugging her closer to his face, realizing that he was trying to reach her ear.

  "Sorry," Jack whispered mournfully. "I'm sorry that I kissed Faye. I love you, Kamala."

  His hand fell away from her face and he went still.

  And so did her heart.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CONFLICT
OF INTEREST

  "Are those...bullet holes?"

  Fry glanced up at the massive container housing the slumbering Baba Yaga. "Yep."

  "Oh, my. Trouble on the way here?"

  Fry grinned and twitched one shoulder in a shrug. "Nothing we couldn't handle. How've you been, doc?"

  "Anxious," Dr. Hudson admitted. "From the initial report Dr. Friedman gave me, it sounds like you guys had your work cut out for you getting her back. Anything from the others yet?"

  Fry's expression sobered. He cleared his throat. "They...had to rush Dr. Jackson to the hospital. Gunshot wound to the side, among other injuries. Kamala and Snow are alright."

  Dr. Hudson shook his head as he watched the freight truck ease its way down the ramp into the underground facility's entrance. "I hope he'll be alright. I've read the papers on his project. Such a brilliant mind. Dr. Anjali too."

  Fry nodded. "They're tough kids. They've basically done what only a handful of people in the history of mankind have ever done--gone toe to toe with Baba Yaga and lived to tell the tale. I'll let you know the moment I get some news from them on his status."

  "I'd greatly appreciate that."

  Fry gestured towards the facility. "Mind showing me around?"

  "Absolutely. Dr. Friedman's already inside, so follow me." Dr. Hudson swiped an ID badge and the reinforced steel door clanked. He caught the handle and Fry followed him in, nodding to the armed guard seated in a booth across from the door. They walked into a small lobby with an elevator. Once inside, Dr. Hudson swiped the ID card again and pressed the basement floor button.

  "So what can you tell me about the dragon that you observed in the field?"

  Fry sighed. "She's a piece of work, doc. Never seen anything like her. She's hurt, but her injuries should be mostly sealed up. Shortly before we caught her, Dr. Anjali managed to close up the gunshot wounds from the yakuza."

  Dr. Hudson gave a start. "How on earth did she manage that?"

  Fry chuckled. "I know, right? But I shit you not, she sang to the dragon and it stayed calm. Who would've thought the solution would be that simple?"

  "Incredible. I admire her bravery. However, considering what I know about the species, it might make a bit of sense in context of the dragon's unique development. From what I can tell, whoever engineered Baba Yaga definitely utilized some kind of growth hormone that accelerated all of the normal processes of an animal's development. They must have been under some kind of deadline or limitation, because they overlooked the lack of development for her brain. There is a reason that all animals have infant stages. It's when they learn survival instincts and general intelligence. By skipping that process, they ended up with a fully-grown dragon with the brain of a newborn. She had no idea what she was or what she could do, and with no mother or father to raise her, she just went on pure instinct. These dragons were solitary in their adult stages, but they did have social interactions up until that time. Baba Yaga might not have known what was going on, but she responded to Dr. Anjali's singing because it was probably similar to the sounds she would have heard in her mother's nest. Dragons were vocal creatures, after all. Their mates call to each other. It could be heard from miles away."

  "She may have the brain of a newborn, but she sure as hell knew her own strength. She pretty much tore through those mercs like tissue paper."

  Dr. Hudson winced. "Unfortunately, that's the other side of it. That's why she was one of the most sought-after dragons in history. If left alone, Baba Yaga kept to herself. If provoked, she could wipe out entire battalions on her own. A creature that powerful was always meant to be isolated."

  "So what's the plan? How are you going to keep her contained?"

  "That's what we're working on right now. Initially, she'll stay in her dormant state. We'll start with non-invasive tests until we understand her biology and anatomy. Once we're sure we can sustain her unconscious state, we'll try to figure out if she can ever be revived and allowed to live like a normal creature. We're still not sure of the circumstances that led to her escape. If she was being tortured and experimented on, she could have been reacting to the trauma and trying to protect herself. If we create the right environment for her, there is a small chance she won't have to spend her days in perpetual slumber."

  "If I were you, I'd definitely start by draining those sacs in her mouth so she can't make that chemical fire. Nasty stuff, man. Aokigahara's lucky to still be standing. She burned down entire sections of the forest."

  Dr. Hudson nodded as the elevator dinged and the doors parted. "Trust me, it's a top priority on our list."

  They walked out onto the concrete floor of the basement lab. It had similarities to a massive garage, except for the lift built into its center. Metal groaned under the weight of the freight container holding Baba Yaga as it slowly eased down from the upper levels. Some of Fry's men stood around the truck, armed to the teeth.

  "Where'd they even find this place?" Fry asked, glancing around at the people in scrubs scurrying about with various medical equipment.

  "It was a storage facility," Dr. Hudson said. "The military sometimes stored planes, tanks, and other transportation here. The main reason it was chosen was because of the old cold storage locker where they stored freeze-dried food that used to get shipped out. It's big enough for the dragon. The whole place is solid concrete, too, so that gives us a better shot of keeping her in here should anything go wrong."

  "Smart choice. The bad guys would have a helluva time trying to get her out."

  The lift reached the bottom. The Japanese military headed to the rear of the truck and began unbuckling the storage container's restraints. Behind the truck, an enormous forklift waited patiently for its cargo.

  To the left of the center floor was the cold storage unit. It had two titanic metal doors with locks only accessible by keypads, and the doors were already open as the forklift eased its way towards the container with the sleeping giant inside. Fry didn't quite hold his breath, but he still kept a hand on his Desert Eagle as the forklift gripped the container and carefully maneuvered towards the unit. The whole room had fallen almost deathly silent aside from the mechanical whirl of the machine, as if everyone held their breath to see if the dragon awoke.

  Slowly, the forklift turned and entered the cold storage unit. The massive doors shut behind it. Fry lowered his hand from the gun and sighed. "Thank God for small miracles."

  "Amen," Dr. Hudson, crossing himself. "I'd better get to work. Thank you for all you've done, Agent Fry. We couldn't have done this without you."

  Fry nodded to him. "Stay safe, doc. Have a report for me by morning."

  "Will do."

  Fry headed over to the security guard across from the elevator and returned up to the surface level. The one from upstairs walked him to the gate and let him out. There was an SUV waiting for him. He climbed in and dialed a number on his phone while instructing the driver where to head next.

  The phone rang a few times and then a female voice answered. "Yes?"

  "I've got the location for you. Give me an hour to get you clearance. You'll be working with Dr. Hudson and Dr. Friedman."

  "Thank you, Agent Fry. It'll be good to see her again."

  Fry snorted. "If you say so. I trust you've already sent the money?"

  "It went out the moment my phone rang."

  "S'what I like about you. Very professional."

  "Is that all?"

  "It is indeed."

  "Thank you again, Agent Fry."

  "You're welcome, Minako."

  ***

  Psssh, click. Psssh, click.

  "How did this happen?"

  Psssh, click. Psssh, click.

  The answer was easy enough, at least in Yagami's opinion, but it was a little hard to concentrate with the constant noise of his father's oxygen machine punctuating the caustic air around them. He had his hands tucked into the pockets of his suit jacke
t as he stared at the old man wasting away in his extravagant chair at the head of the dining room table. A pretty young nurse stood at his side, her hands folded, waiting for instruction. Miso soup sat at the placemat before him, its steam wafting the delicious scent through the air. He probably wasn't eating much solid food at this point.

  Yagami glanced at his sister. Keiko had her usual stoic expression on her pale face, but he could still see the faint indentations in her brows as she tried to keep from frowning. Their father had demanded that both of them be ruthlessly smart, poised, and composed at all times. Emotions were a weakness. It had been hard when he was young. Their mother died not long after he met Kazuma. It was something the two of them had bonded over as young boys with strict men teaching them to grow up before they were ready. After a while, suppressing his emotions became easy, and then, effortless. He could look at things that would devastate a normal person with a cold dispassion.

  Like his father dying in the next six months.

  "The Inagawa broke their word," Keiko said finally. "Our agreement was that they would help us procure the dragon and we share the profit afterward. They instead conducted their own operation and attempted to kill it rather than bring it in alive. As for the Yamaguchi, that woman Aisaka was in charge, but I was told she went off mission in order to pursue Dr. Jackson. There was some in-fighting that occurred in the forest and I believe that is what led to the dragon being taken by the authorities instead."

  Makoto's cloudy eyes wandered over to Yagami and then back to Keiko. "Do you know of its whereabouts?"

  "Not yet. It won't take long. We have ears and eyes everywhere."

  Makoto sighed. "At this point, it would not be worth the resources expended in order to retrieve the dragon. We had too much money invested in it already. Let them have the first one. We can recover the loss with the next batch."

  He paused to let out a wet cough. "Yagami, what is the status of the next subjects?"

  "We have altered the serum," he said. "Baba Yaga's mind did not mature enough with her accelerated growth. She was erratic and violent as a result. We have focused more intently on the maturation in the brain and we have also decided to breed them in large packs rather than one by one. Social interaction should reduce that level of aggression so that the dragons are docile and will imprint on their caretakers rather than try to attack them out of self-preservation."

 

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