Knight of Flame

by Scott Eder

Dev closed his eyes against the pain and took a second to catch his breath.

  The harsh screech of tortured metal parted the clouds over his brain and his eyes sprang open. He jerked up into a sitting position. The pain of his tortured shoulder and broken ribs made breathing excruciating, but he couldn’t give up, had to keep fighting.

  Cinder lay just out of reach. He knew the crushing weight of the next attack would nail him at any second and had to be ready. He dug his right hand into the gravel and pushed. Body screaming in protest, a tidal wave of nausea threatening to drown him, he fought through it, grabbed Cinder, and surged to his feet.

  An odd whistle sounded off to his right. Twin midnight missiles streaked toward him.

  “I’m sorry, Wren.” Dev braced himself for this final impact.

  Gravel popped as the car slid to a halt in front of him and the passenger door flew open.

  It took him a second to realize what happened, that Wren was in front of him with what was left of the car and that it sputtered in a heap between him and the tentacles. Hope gave his rubbery legs the strength to propel him into the seat.

  Wren punched it. The tentacles slammed into the driver’s side, smashed the back window and lifted the car up onto two wheels. With a curse she eased off on the gas and tweaked the steering wheel to keep them from flipping over.

  Once all four wheels touched down, she gunned it. The engine revved like a racecar, but the battered vehicle only limped away to the sound of grinding steel and the smell of burned rubber, carrying them barely far enough to take them out of immediate danger.

  Applause and whoops of encouragement from the onlookers turned to howls of terror and pain. Gunshots rang out. Dev glanced in his side-view mirror and watched the guards open fire on the witnesses. He wanted to turn back and help, but he knew there was nothing he could do. Feeling sick and useless he sank into his seat.

  Chapter 5

  AN ANGRY, BLACK CLOUD LOOMED IN the near distance off the interstate just beyond Cassidy’s exit. If she were lucky, Club Mastodon had been destroyed in a fire. She’d write a quick story about how sad it was to lose the club, but how wonderful it was that no one was hurt and then be off to bed.

  Yeah. Right. It better not rain.

  She smacked the turn signal when it refused to shut off and slammed on the brakes at the light across from the club. Eight point two miles in forty-five minutes. Are you kidding me? I should be home by now. She’d ask the first person she met two quick questions and get the hell out of Dodge.

  Stopped at the streetlight across from the club entrance, she checked her makeup in the rearview. An orange glow peeked from around the mirror’s edge.

  Holy sh—Club Mastodon really is on fire. The sight of the fire clued in the rest of her tired senses. Smoke hung in the air and the scent of old, charred meat filtered through her open vents.

  A mangled Jaguar rolled to a stop, sputtered and died next to the club’s drive. A car door slammed.

  Eyes focused on the bright flicker through the trees, she drove onto Mastodon property.

  A shiny blur ran in front of the car. Cassidy swerved and tensed in anticipation of the thunk, but thank goodness, it never came. Pulse throbbing, she opened the window. Where’d it go? She checked out the front and leaned to the other side. Nothing.

  Craaaap. Must have hit it. She opened her door. With one foot in the air, a shimmer hurtled from behind the wrecked Jag and shoved her over to the passenger seat.

  “Move it.”

  Oh hell no. Cassidy swung her left arm with all the strength she could muster. A girl in a sequined dress dipped and returned a punch of her own that split Cassidy’s lip. Blood filled her mouth and dribbled down her chin.

  Cassidy screamed and launched a two handed barrage of slaps, scratches and hair grabs that would have made her self-defense instructor cringe—two years of martial arts and judo classes out the window. Her haphazard flailing continued until the tiny, sparkling girl captured her hands.

  “Quit it.” Sparkles said. Great. I named her like she was a new kitty.

  Her grip was like iron. Cassidy pulled and twisted, but couldn’t break free.

  A warm tingle of honor, desperation, and fear flowed into Cassidy as she sensed the girl’s emotional state through their skin-on-skin contact.

  Empathy. Cassidy’s grandmother had smiled at her in that private, knowing way whenever she talked about her ‘gift.’ Curse, more like. It had done far more harm than good through the years, and she didn’t want any part of it. She’d much rather take people at face value and know them by their actions than to get a true sense of how they felt from a simple touch. Sparkle’s actions should have sentenced her to a car ride of desperate fighting and escape attempts. Instead, she’d get a big dose of wait and see.

  The back door opened. A heavy weight flopped into the car, shifted around amidst a chorus of groans, and closed the door.

  Now what? She twisted around, caught a glimpse of a bald, dirt-streaked head, but Sparkles yanked her back before she got a better look.

  “Who is…?” Cassidy asked.

  “Get out.” Sparkles nudged Cassidy toward the door.

  A raspy male voice spoke from the back seat. “No.”

  No?

  Sparkles ignored the croak and shoved Cassidy toward the door. “Out.”

  “No, too, dangerous. Drive.” The voice from the back countermanded Sparkle’s insistent shoving.

  “Too dangerous? What, the fire?” Cassidy asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. Her grandmother had warned her about that too.

  Is he afraid I’m going to ID the girl?

  Sparkles rolled her eyes. “I got this,” she shot over her shoulder then turned to Cassidy, her demeanor dripping in syrupy sweetness. “The Club is on fire and the bad guys are coming. We need to leave. Right now. I can’t drive if you fight me.” She batted her eyelashes. “So please sit there and be quiet. When it’s safe, you can go.”

  Please? “Look, Sparkles—”

  “Wren.”

  “What?”

  “My name is Wren.” Her eyes shifted to the front then back again. “Tick tock. What’s it gonna be?

  “What bad guys?”

  “Wren…” The voice from the back cracked, sounded like he was in pain.

  “We don’t have time for this.” Wren released Cassidy’s arms and turned the car around.

  Cassidy lunged for her door handle and cranked it down. The door swung free and nobody stopped her.

  “I wouldn’t do that.” Wren said.

  “Why?” Cassidy asked, one foot already out the door when the car shook. “What was that?”

  “In or out?”

  It rumbled again. Cassidy’s head whipped around to Wren. “What is that?”

  Wren pushed gently on the accelerator while Cassidy dangled on her decision point. “Last chance. In or out?”

  Cassidy pulled her foot inside and shut the door. The shiny woman intrigued her and she was dying to know who was in her back seat. Plus, she liked this car and didn’t want to hand it over to a carjacker, no matter how polite they were.

  Wren took the ramp for the interstate and merged into traffic heading south towards the Sunshine Skyway. Within three car lengths, their progress ground to a halt.

  “Oh, yeah. By the way…” Cassidy deadpanned, “Traffic is all backed up.”

  Wren closed her eyes, took a deep breath and lowered her head.

  “But it’ll clear up at the bridge, at the end of the construction zone.” Cassidy pointed up ahead. “Yeah, see, we’re almost out of it.” She nudged Wren’s arm. “Hey, we’re moving.”

  Wren opened her eyes, checked the mirrors and drifted the few feet to catch up. “You, uhh, you probably won’t believe this, but I’m sorry. I don’t normally do this kind of thing.” She dragged shaking fingers through disheveled black hair.

  And an “I’m sorry?” I didn’t realize they made carjackers this polite. That blows the whole image for me.


  Cassidy buckled up and decided to play along for now. Who knew? This could turn into a great story.

  Detached reporter mode engaged. She tried to mentally capture everything as if she were watching the events unfold in a movie. Spark—Wren obviously came from the club, based on her fancy dress, but she was coated in dirt and blood. Also, her eyes contained a wildness, a desperation that you normally didn’t see after a fun night out with your boyfriend. Cassidy had covered enough police calls to recognize the look of someone who had been in a fight, a bad one by the looks of it, and this girl reeked of fear and shock and danger.

  Dang it. My recorder’s in the back seat.

  Wren looked in the rearview way too often, like she was expecting someone to be following. Cassidy checked the mirror too and saw a long line of traffic, but nothing out of the ordinary. Something blocked out the stars up ahead for a split second then disappeared. The hairs on the back of her neck danced as a chill shook her body. She looked for it again, but failed and chalked it up to her imagination.

  “Who are you looking for?” Cassidy asked. Since she was given the choice to come along, she’d make the best of the situation. When she was in Wren’s grip she’d felt her integrity and honor. For the first time, her empathy worked in her favor. Whatever happened, she believed that Wren meant what she said about letting her go when it was safe.

  The car rocked as the mystery-mister in the back moved around with a lot of grunting and groaning.

  Ooh, forgot about him.

  Cassidy sneaked a glimpse while Wren checked the mirrors for the thousandth time. When she saw him, her eyes flashed to Wren, then back to the guy, then back to Wren.

  “Wren.” Cassidy fought to keep her voice neutral and gripped her knees to steady her hands. “There’s a naked man writhing in my backseat.” Forget the warm fuzzies she got from Wren a few minutes ago, this new development kicked the credibility of her gift in the teeth.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  “That’s Dev.”

  A muffled, pained, “Hi,” drifted into the front. “Kick up the heat, please.”

  Wren fumbled with the knobs on the strange console. The cool air came on. She turned the dial. It got cooler.

  “Fakku!” Wren pushed another button and the airflow stopped. She punched the console and shouted, “Turn on the damn heat.”

  Cassidy jammed her finger onto the correct button and whipped the dial to red. Hot air blew out of the vents, increasing the heat in the already warm car.

  “Thanks,” Dev whispered.

  Cassidy twisted in her seat to get a better look at her suffering passenger. Dev lay on his side in the fetal position facing toward the trunk with half his naked body hanging off the seat. Covered in dirt and blood, he took quick, shallow breaths. His skin was pink, except for his left shoulder and torso, which showed mottled grays and brown. The gigantic knife strapped to his back threw her for a second, but the EMT side of her discarded that as less important than assessing the damage to her patient.

  No, not a patient, just a passenger. Get the story. Get the car. Get the heck out.

  But she couldn’t help herself, and assessed the injured man.

  Right side of his torso caved in, indicating severe trauma with probable internal injuries. A dislocated shoulder with possible bone and muscle damage. She couldn’t be sure without x-rays and an MRI, but that’s what it looked like. The guy was a mess.

  “He needs a hospital.” Cassidy touched Dev’s arm, but recoiled as if burned. “He’s burning up.”

  “He’ll be alright.” Wren paused, hand raised for silence. “Did you feel that?”

  Wren’s nonchalance about her boyfriend’s injuries bothered Cassidy. She opened her mouth to tell her so when she felt it.

  Boom. The tremor was back.

  Looking away from Dev, Cassidy was shocked to see the other cars obscured by fog or smoke. When did that happen? She could barely make out the tail lights of the car ahead of them. The wind must have changed and blew the smoke from the burning club over the highway.

  It shouldn’t be this thick.

  When the traffic jam cleared, the vehicle ahead of them zoomed forward, disappearing into the gloom.

  Boom.

  “What is that?” Cassidy asked again.

  Boom.

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Wren checked the mirror even though there was no way she could see anything. “Dev, it’s getting closer.”

  They’d made it to the bridge. Cassidy couldn’t see it, the tall yellow spires and thick suspension cables having been eaten by the fog, but could tell by the change in the car’s pitch as they started the climb.

  Boom.

  The vibration rattled the windows.

  Boom.

  “Dev?” Wren’s tone raised an octave.

  The roadway rumbled and shook. The frequency of the vibrations increased until it was a constant thrum through Cassidy’s bones.

  Boom. Boom. Crash.

  Something exploded behind them and faint, disembodied screams floated on the fog.

  “Keep going, but slow down when you get to the top.” Dev’s voice sounded stronger.

  Boom. Boom.

  Cassidy stared straight ahead, fingers crimped against the dash. She jumped, smacking her head into the roof, as the back end of a yellow VW Beetle crashed down in front of them. Wren yipped and jerked the wheel. Parts scattered, smoke rose from the overturned engine block and the bumper bounced over the bridge’s guardrail.

  Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

  At any moment she knew it was going to get them. Maybe she should have gotten out of the car when she had the chance. But what if this thing came from the club? What if it started the fire down there? Cassidy’s brain sang through a what-if medley while with every muscle tense and hard, she waited for the crash, the collision that would destroy them. Even though she expected it, it took her by surprise.

  The back end of Cassidy’s sedan lifted and crashed down with a jarring bounce. A second impact hammered into the back of the car and spun it round one hundred eighty degrees. She caught a glimpse of a giant, bone head with glowing red eyes before the mist swallowed it up.

  Wren slammed the car into reverse and accelerated.

  The skeleton charged. Ethereal streamers peeled away from bone as it broke cover.

  With her first full glimpse of the beast, the rational side of Cassidy’s conscious thought switched off. This couldn’t be happening, but the horror show bearing down on them looked real, felt real, and generated such a palpable feeling of evil that she wanted to scrape it off her eyeballs. She couldn’t help but cringe deeper into the seat, brace herself against the dash and hold her breath.

  Wren’s poise astounded her. Cassidy didn’t know how she managed to keep moving, to keep just out of reach of that killing machine, but was damn glad she did.

  At the apex of the tall bridge, they broke free of the mist. The sudden clearing took them by surprise.

  “Let me out.” Dev commanded. “It’s me it wants.” His voice sounded stronger.

  “Are you crazy?” Both girls cried in unison.

  “Certifiable.” Dev grabbed the door handle. “But it’s what I do. After I’m gone, get out of here. That’s an order.”

  The thing pounded after them, its curved tusks shredding the mist as it broke into the clear not ten feet in front of them.

  Wren slowed. The beast gained.

  The back door opened and Cassidy heard a rustling from the back seat. He’s serious? He’s going to jump out of a moving car to do…what? Fall over in front of that monster? She refused to look. If she didn’t see his face, didn’t look into his eyes, she could maintain her distance and keep this impersonal. His would be just another corpse some poor schmuck had to scrape off the pavement.

  Who am I kidding?

  It had become personal the moment she let her guard down and put on her old EMT hat. While she assessed his wounds, she felt that old rush, the adrenal
ine spike that made her feel alive and kept her going through the worst of the carnage and destruction she’d balanced on a daily basis. But that was a lifetime ago.

  Cassidy heard him jump, heard his body hit the pavement with a dull thud, and heard the air gush out of his lungs.

  Once Dev was clear, Wren backed into the fog down the other side of the bridge. However, instead of following the road down, she stopped inside the concealing bank and shifted into Park.

  “What are you doing?” Cassidy asked.

  Tears streamed down Wren’s cheeks. Cassidy nodded. Whatever happened, they would wait and watch. Either way, Dev would need a ride home.

  * * *

  As the car slowed, Dev flopped out and rolled across the lane. A nice soft landing was out of the question, but the brutal joining of soft knight with hard roadway left him dazed. Though the ride had only lasted a few minutes, it was long enough to restore some of his energy. He’d absorbed the heat from the warm air and the hot engine to kick-start the healing process; but the harsh landing jarred his shattered ribs and injured left shoulder.

  He gasped from the pain and struggled to one knee. Hand braced on his leg, he found his balance and rose to his feet. Jaw set in agony and building rage, Dev glared at his undead attacker charging across the clearing. The outcome of the battle was a foregone conclusion given the battered state of his body and dwindling elemental power. He only hoped to delay the beast long enough for the girls to get away.

  The monster followed the car, unaware that its prey had thrown itself out of its hard shell.

  Dev whipped Cinder from its sheath, squeezed her hilt and roared a challenge. The giant beast’s hooves skidded on the smooth surface as it scrabbled to turn around.

  Heat shimmered all around him—in the air, in the concrete of the bridge, in the wreckage that littered the interstate along the mastodon’s wake. The Knight of Flame drew in his element.

  Stripped of its warmth, the temperature of the roadway plummeted. Cracks fissured out from where he stood, jagged streaks cut across the concrete and asphalt mix. The air turned crisp and cold and the wind whipped across his face.

  Blessed energy rushed into him, but his damaged body could only retain a small amount. The excess drained away like water through a sieve.