Stiletto

by Daniel O'Malley

  “Sentimental value,” said Felicity.

  “Fair enough. So, why are you soaking wet?”

  “Fortunes of war,” she said. They quickly exchanged stories. Cawthorne was a sniper and had been on one of the roofs on the far side of the church. After those creatures had burst out of the ground all around the church, one had sprung up onto his roof and dragged his spotter down and toward a hole in the earth. He had hesitated only briefly before shooting the woman dead.

  “A mercy, I think,” he said. He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes for a moment. “I hope.” He had seen a Pawn on the next roof grow several extra arms and grapple with another monster for a few minutes. He had shot at it, but his bullets had no visible effect, and then the creature tore the Pawn apart.

  “Have you heard anything over the radios?” she asked.

  “There was a few seconds’ worth of shouting over the air from the chief, then static.” After that, Trevor had beat a hasty retreat and was making his way through the alleyways back to the pub when he ran into Felicity.

  “You didn’t meet up with any other Checquy?” she asked.

  “I saw two,” he said, “both of them involved in fights. I went to help one, Sally, but the creature walked through her gunfire, snatched her up, and bounded up onto the roofs before I got within twenty meters. The other one was Jimmy Hourani; he was spraying that acid mist of his at three of the monsters. I fired a few bullets at them, but it’s best not to get too close when the conflict gets, uh, eccentric. Some of my Pawn mates can get a bit carried away. Jimmy started flooding the alleyway with that stuff, and I got out of there. I take it you’re heading to the pub too? For the backup radio and satellite phones?”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Felicity. “Those would come in handy. But I’m also looking for a girl from our side. She was in the pub with Pawn Kirkcaldie when things got edgy.”

  “Right, the guest you brought.” Cawthorne nodded. “I heard about it over the radio when you arrived. She was some kind of VIP?”

  “Well, she’s an I, anyway,” said Felicity. The Retainer’s eyebrows went up. “And a P as well,” she conceded.

  “Let’s see if she’s around, then,” said Cawthorne. “Shall I lead the way?” They proceeded around the corner and into the courtyard. The back door of the pub hung on its hinges, and they waited for a moment, listening for any sounds, before they ventured in, guns at the ready. Felicity found herself praying as she went in. Please. She didn’t even know what she was praying for.

  But this certainly wasn’t it, she thought. The front room of the pub was empty except for the corpse of a soldier sprawled awkwardly on top of the beer taps. There was, however, a gaping hole in the middle of the floor. Damn it, they came up in here as well. The windows had been blown out, but there was no sign of the thick black smoke she had seen pouring out of the building, nor of any fire. The place was riddled with bullet holes, however. Through the windows, they could see that the area around the church was now deserted, no sign of either the monsters or any Checquy people. Acrid smoke from burning cars wafted over the street.

  “It’s not looking good for the chief,” said Cawthorne. “Or any of the lads and lassies who were in here.” He shook his head over the dead man. “Pawn Lenton. At least he went down fighting.” Felicity looked at the corpse—instead of hands, long stone blades projected from his wrists, scraps of that yellow and green skin fluttering on the ends.

  “The others?” asked Felicity. “Any sign?”

  “Either scattered or down the rabbit hole,” said the Retainer grimly.

  Did they take Odette? she thought.

  “Can you stand guard for a sec?” she said.

  “Why, do you need to go to the lav?” he asked. “Because I think we can find a slightly more secure place than a building with a gaping hellhole in the floor.”

  “No, I’m going to take a peek into the past.”

  “Fine,” he said. “But make it fast, and move back from the hole a bit. If something comes out, I want to shoot it before it snatches you.” She nodded and sat where Odette had been sitting. Cawthorne watched as her body stiffened and her eyes went distant, and then he turned his attention back to the rest of the world.

  Felicity returned to her body a few minutes later to find that Cawthorne was kneeling down by the windows, his long rifle out at an angle. He held his finger to his lips and gestured for her to get low. She joined him, and he pointed down the street to where one of the monsters was prowling. She lifted her weapon.

  “Any problems while I was gone?” she whispered.

  “Just our friend down the lane there,” he replied in low tones. They watched tensely as the creature moved along the street. Finally, it entered one of the snickelways and vanished from sight. They relaxed slightly.

  “So, what’re the results of your trip into the past?”

  “As soon as the creatures emerged outside, Pawn Kirkcaldie ordered his aide to take Odette out the back. A few moments later, that hole opened up in the floor and three of the things came out.” She didn’t mention how relieved she had been that Odette had escaped. “Four of our people were pulled down into the burrow, including Kirkcaldie, I’m afraid.” His face was grim. “The smoke I saw came from a Pawn. A creature pulled his arm off, and it poured out of him. Then his body evaporated.”

  “Cutler,” he said. “A good man. Good friend. But your girl got away?”

  “Yes, or at least away from here. But I don’t know where she went,” said Felicity.

  “Can you track her with your powers?”

  “I could, but it would take a while. However, I have another way.” She backed away from the window, retrieved her handbag from where it lay in a corner, and produced her mobile phone. “I’ll give her a call.”

  “That reminds me,” said Cawthorne. There were several large plastic cases in the kitchen of the pub, and he cracked one open. “Satellite phone. And more ammunition. But I think we should find somewhere a little more secure before we start making calls.”

  “I don’t think there’s anywhere particularly secure in this place,” she said with feeling, but they made their way back through the snickelways to a nearby house and briskly broke in. From a bedroom on the second floor, Felicity began to dial.

  “Wait. Text her,” suggested Cawthorne. “If she’s hiding, the ring might give her away.” Felicity nodded and thumbed in a message.

  RU OK? Is it safe to ring you?

  The answer came back straightaway.

  Yes.

  Felicity called her immediately.

  “Clements?”

  “Odette!” exclaimed Felicity. Thank God.

  “You’re alive! Are you all right?”

  “Yes. Where are you?” asked Felicity. Odette explained that she and Burrows were in the attic of a house on the outskirts of the village. “Do you have an address?” For all the good it will do. As it turned out, she did have an address, the apparently resourceful Burrows having snatched some mail from the letterbox before they’d hidden. “Okay, hold on a sec.” She turned to Cawthorne, who had been talking intently on the satellite phone.

  “The Checquy is aware of the situation. They’re sending backup troops,” he said. “They should be here within the hour, and then they’ll march through and kill everything that’s not us.”

  “Okay, so, we’ll just hole up here and wait?” she said.

  “Probably easiest,” he agreed. Felicity put the phone back to her ear.

  “Odette, reinforcements are on the way. We’re going to wait until they arrive. Okay? Odette?”

  “Felicity, there’s something moving about downstairs,” came the whispered reply. “I think there’s more than one.” She sounded terrified.

  “Keep quiet,” said Felicity. “We’re on our way.”

  “We are?” said Cawthorne in surprise.

  “We are,” said Felicity firmly. She slung the gun back on her shoulder and took up her club. “Let’s go.”

 
; How are we going to find them?” asked Cawthorne, following her down the stairs. “This place is a maze.”

  “Internet directions,” said Felicity, holding up her phone.

  “It won’t have the alleys on it,” he warned. “We’ll be using the streets.”

  “Then you’ll want to have your big gun ready,” she said, and she opened the front door. According to her app, Odette’s temporary address was two minutes’ drive away. “Let’s run.”

  They ran, taking care to keep to one side of the street. Out of the corner of her eye, Felicity saw a flicker of green and yellow as a creature let itself down from a roof.

  “Keep going!” Cawthorne said to her as he stopped and turned to face it. “I’ll take care of it!”

  “Thanks,” gasped Felicity as she ran on, but she didn’t think he heard her. Behind her, there were rifle reports, then silence. She couldn’t even look back to see what had happened; she had to keep on running. Then she heard footsteps and tried to speed up. She fumbled for her gun, ready to swing around and fire.

  “It’s me!” shouted Cawthorne from behind her. “Keep running! They don’t respond well to getting shot in the middle of the face!” He drew level to her. A bit fitter than me, she acknowledged. Rounding the corner onto Odette’s street, they saw two creatures prowling about outside one of the houses. “Machine guns!” barked Cawthorne. “Faces!” The creatures whirled toward them, and the two Checquy operatives slowed as they brought up their guns and fired.

  Cawthorne was correct—the middle of the creatures’ faces, like the napes of their necks, seemed vulnerable to bullets. The two they shot fell to the ground almost instantly.

  “That’s Odette’s house!” Felicity wheezed. There were creature-size holes in the wall—Why make more than one hole? she thought—and the two operatives eased their way through them. Maybe those we killed made the holes, she thought hopefully. Cawthorne silently touched her hand and pointed upward. There were more holes punched in the ceiling. They’re really not very clever monsters. She heard movement above but couldn’t tell if it was human or otherwise. Guns at the ready, they went up the stairs.

  The landing was empty, but there were no holes in the ceiling. So they might not have gotten into the attic yet, she thought. She was about to call out quietly for Odette when two of the creatures stalked out of a bedroom into the hallway. Ohhhh, shit. The two pairs looked at each other, and then Cawthorne said from behind her, “Shoot ’em.”

  Felicity immediately pulled the trigger, but, with that horrible quickness, the creatures had ducked back into the bedroom.

  Advance or wait? she wondered. There was a crash behind her. She whirled to see that one of the creatures had punched through the wall of the corridor, emerged between the two operatives, and smacked Cawthorne’s gun out of his hand. Now the Retainer was backing away, holding his hand against his chest in a manner that suggested all was not well inside. The creature stalked toward Cawthorne, ignoring Felicity. The sniper looked at her and mouthed, Run! Then the monster slapped out, slamming him against the wall.

  Run, she thought. What a good idea. Instead, she stepped forward, aimed the gun at the nape of the creature’s neck—I’ve been here before—and fired. The creature jerked, went to its knees, then fell facedown on the floor. Cawthorne slid down the wall next to it and looked up at Felicity.

  “Where’s the other one?” he said weakly. Felicity whirled around and saw the second monster coming into the hallway. She fired—or she would have if she’d had any bullets left. Just as she dropped the gun and clasped both hands around her club, a noise came from the ceiling above them.

  Everyone, including the monster, looked up.

  Then they looked back at each other.

  The creature cocked its head, gathered itself, and leapt up, punching through the plaster. Felicity heard Odette screaming. “No!”

  Where’s the ladder? Where’s the hatch? She saw it set into the ceiling down the hall and ran to it. Behind her, Cawthorne was calling something, but she was too focused on pulling the steps down and scrambling into the dim attic.

  Burrows was dead, she saw that immediately. His body lay broken by the hole in the floor. Odette was farther back, where the roof angled down. The creature prowled toward her. The Grafter girl was brandishing a scalpel in one hand, and a spur projected from her other wrist. She looked terrified.

  The creature turned to Felicity, and Odette made a break for it. As she darted forward, the beast spun and raked her back with its fingers. It had no claws that Felicity could see, but under its touch, the material of Odette’s coat parted, and then there was a horrendous fanning spray of bright red blood. Odette collapsed facedown onto the floor.

  “No! Motherfucker!” Felicity screamed and lunged forward. There wasn’t room to swing her club, but she jabbed it at the creature’s knee. The club glanced off and she lost her grip on it, but it made the creature pause, and she wrapped her arms around its wet neck and hauled it backward, tangling her legs around it so that it came down onto her. Her breath was knocked out of her. The monster scrambled to get up, but Felicity twisted and kicked out wildly, not letting it find purchase. “I will kill you,” she said through gritted teeth. She scrabbled with one hand for the knife taped to her other arm. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw Odette moving a little.

  Still alive, she thought.

  “Get away!” Felicity said, wheezing. Odette didn’t get away. Instead, the Grafter got to her knees and crawled over. She put her hand to the struggling creature’s chest and felt about. Then she put the point of her scalpel to the middle of its torso and shoved up. The blade merely scratched across its slimy hide. “It’s useless—go!” Odette set her face and pushed her sleeves back, and Felicity saw the muscles in her arm jerk and shift unnaturally under the skin. The Grafter winced in pain, and then she bore down on the blade once more. The instrument slid into the monster.

  The creature stopped its struggles for a moment, as if surprised, but then resumed them. It flung its head back and missed giving Felicity’s skull a hammer blow by centimeters.

  “A lovely effort,” said Felicity through clenched teeth, “but please go!” Odette pulled the scalpel out and held up her other hand, and her spur slid out. She plunged it into the cut, and her brow furrowed. Poison, thought Felicity. Maybe . . . The creature tensed, and then kept fighting. Felicity’s muscles were tiring, and the monster’s strength was getting the better of her. “More!” gasped Felicity. “Use everything!” Odette pushed the other spur in. The creature was pushing up off the floor. Odette’s face twitched, and the monster faltered. “Again!”

  And it all stopped.

  Oh, thank Christ, thought Felicity. The monster lay limp, not even twitching. With an effort, she rolled it off her. Odette was on her knees, breathing heavily, her head bowed. She helped Felicity sit up, and then the two women held each other tightly.

  It was unclear who was more shocked by the hug, but neither let go immediately.

  When they drew back, Felicity saw blood all over her hands.

  “Your wound!” she exclaimed in horror, running her hands over Odette’s back. “Lie down on your stomach, we need to get pressure on it!”

  “It’s fine, it’s not me,” said Odette. “It’s just my jacket.”

  “Your jacket?”

  The Grafter girl held up a fold of her coat. “It’s woven crab cells,” she said. “It can solidify into armor, although apparently it’s not quite strong enough to resist these things.”

  “You nearly gave me a heart attack,” said Felicity. “Are you okay?” She noticed that the Grafter’s right arm was hanging weakly.

  “I think I tore some muscles in my arm,” said Odette. “I had to rearrange them to get the scalpel in, and I couldn’t do it properly. They’re not designed to give extra strength but I wrenched them into a position that let me do it.” Felicity winced.

  “Are you right-handed?”

  “Usually,” said Odette. She wrin
kled her nose. “But not at the moment.”

  “Okay,” said Felicity. “Let’s go downstairs.” With an effort, she got to her feet and scooped up her club. “Come on.” Cawthorne was still sitting where she’d left him, his eyes closed, but he opened them as the women came down the stairs.

  “Oh, you got her,” he said. “Good.” Felicity made the introductions, and Odette one-handedly examined his injuries. The diagnosis was not good, but it was not as bad as it might have been. Broken forearm from where the monster had slapped his gun away. Broken ribs and possible concussion from getting thrown into the wall.

  “You’ll live,” she said.

  “Lucky old me.”

  Odette bent down and examined the corpse of the monster on the floor, prodding carefully with a combat knife she borrowed from Cawthorne.

  “What are you doing?” whispered Felicity fiercely. “These are inhuman creatures that may have been locked away for centuries; we have no idea what kind of toxic crap is inside them.”

  “This one is wearing a wristwatch,” Leliefeld pointed out.

  “I beg your pardon?” As Felicity looked on, the Grafter poked at the thing’s hide with her knife and, after a bit of effort, managed to saw through it. “Odette, this is not the time or the place to conduct an autopsy.” Leliefeld ignored her, making two cuts and peeling a corner back with the point of the knife.

  “I think this hide is actually clothing,” she said. “It looks like it’s been welded to the skin and strengthened with a sort of resin.”

  “Oh, crikey, you’re right,” said Felicity. “Look, there’s that tacky trademark thing on the chest.” Odette carefully made an incision at the creature’s hairline and peeled back the membrane. A thick clear syrup drained out, and a man’s face was revealed, his features twisted in pain.

  “That’s one of the missing graduate students,” Felicity said.

  “Are you sure?” asked Odette.

  Felicity nodded. “I remember his picture from the file.”

  “So they’re civilians,” Odette said. “And maybe the Pawns that got snatched away. Locked into these suits.”