by Bell, A. C.
Lantz’s cold eyes gave a little roll. His lips parted, but a cough flecked blood onto his lips when he tried to speak. He tried again once he’d settled. “Weak,” was all he said.
Peter clenched his jaw. He shouldn’t care what this man thought, but he had never been called weak before. The insult set his anger bubbling up again. Whatever unplanned retort he was about to bumble his way through was nipped in the bud when he heard rustling in the bushes on the other side of the chain link fence that separated the Parker’s back yard from the one on the left. Another rustle came from the right. He could swear he heard heavy boots pattering up the driveway around the front of the house. How many were there?
Peter didn’t have time to strip down, so he fueled his change just far enough to lengthen his arms and legs a little and sharpen his fingernails to claws. His teeth sharpened and he pulled them back into a snarl. Before he could make a charge for the nearest hidden figure, a small pfft sound caught his ear an instant before something jabbed into his shoulder blade. Another struck him in the abdomen. He staggered and look down. A syringe. Dizziness made his head spin and he stumbled to a knee. He gave his head a sharp shake to clear it as much as he could. A figure clad in black jumped the fence and neared. Peter bared his teeth and growled, but he knew there was nothing he could do from this distance. The anonymous infantryman lifted his tranquilizer rifle again and pelted Peter with another dose.
His mind could cling to conscious no longer.
***
Peter had stayed behind to supervise Lantz. Another ambulance was on the way for the monster, but a few paramedics stayed behind to do what they could for him until it got there. Nikki drove us to the hospital as I was too much of a wreck to do it and all we could do once we got there was wait and fret. Nikki hadn’t washed her hands. Mom’s dried blood darkened her pale skin, emphasizing every crack. Looking at them made my skin crawl and my stomach twist, so I stared at the sterile floor instead, surrounded by the cold white surroundings of the waiting room.
I had to distract myself somehow. I turned to Nikki. “I thought you and Peter were doing research. How did you find me?”
Her voice was thick from crying when she answered. “We were coming to see you, to show you what we found. It can wait, though.”
We fell silent again. With nothing else to think about, my mind kept drifting back to the whole horrible ordeal. Had there been anything I could have done to stop it? I could have told Mom to run when she had the chance, but if she hadn’t shot Lantz then he would have shot me. Either way, one of us would be sitting here, terrified of losing the other, but I had led Lantz to her house. My constant need to leap in the way of danger had put us on his radar. He hadn’t remembered me. He hadn’t even targeted Dad! Dad had simply been an unforeseen casualty, but that, perhaps, hurt even more than if Lantz had intended to kill him.
Internally focused as I was, I didn’t realize my eyes had flooded with unshed tears until the feel of someone holding my hands brought me back and I found myself staring at Raiden’s hazy face through a film of salt water. I blinked to force the tears out and they pooled over my lashes. He reached up from where he knelt in front of me to wipe them away and I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around him. Slade crouched in front of Nikki where she still sat frozen and pressed a sanitation wipe into her hands. She absently began rubbing her hands in it, her hazel eyes still a million miles away.
“Any word from Peter?” She asked.
Slade’s brows knitted together. “You mean he’s not here yet?”
She and I shook our heads and Slade and Raiden exchanged concerned looks. They were right. The second ambulance should have been here by now, with Peter in tow. Thoughts of Peter flew from my mind when a doctor pushed through the doors that lead to the trauma wing. He scanned the waiting room and my heart sped up. He reached my direction and stopped. My heart threatened to do the same. He didn’t remove the sanitation mask as he neared and something about that set me on alert. Did he not want me to see his face while he told me whatever he had to tell me? Fear instilled in me the need to run, but Nikki’s hand slipped into mine and gave a squeeze, offering me some bravery.
“Ms. Parker?” The doctor asked as he neared. I must have nodded. “I’m sorry, we did everything we could, but—”
I stopped hearing him after that. I didn't let myself think and simply focused on how difficult it suddenly was to breathe.
“—if you would like to come back.”
That brought me back. He wanted me to go back there, to see her like that. Horror struck me and I was struck with the memory of my father laying still on the floor. I couldn't see her like that, too. I couldn't. I couldn't. I must have shaken my head because the doctor rubbed the back of his head. A hand touched my back, then.
"I'm her uncle. What if I come, too?" Slade offered.
The man hesitated and then nodded. "I guess that would be okay."
Nikki’s hand left mine. I didn’t dare look at her sniffling face or I would start crying, too. I just looked at the floor and let Slade lead me forward after the doctor. It hadn’t been loud in the waiting room, but it somehow grew unsettlingly quiet once the swinging double doors fell shut behind us. My breathing grew shallow. Which room was it? How close was she? How long did I have before I had to see her? My footsteps slowed, each one taking effort. Slade stopped me by putting his hands on my shoulders and turned me to face him. Emotion threatened to crack the mask of bravery he wore.
“It’s okay. It’ll be okay.”
And he would know. He’d lost almost his entire people. I nodded and tried to borrow some of his courage and turned back to where the doctor stood by a room down the hall. That must be it. I seemed to reach him in fast forward, now. He held the door open and all I could do was go inside.
Mom lay on a hospital bed rather than a surgery table and her head swung exhaustedly toward me. I turned around and started crying, hiding my face from them so I could try to compose myself.
“I’m sorry for the deception,” the doctor muttered.
“What the hell is this?” Slade demanded.
“We need everyone to believe she’s gone so they won’t go looking. They’ll use her against you if they can.”
I turned to face him, startled, and he finally pulled down the sanitation mask. Morrison.
“The Hunters?” I asked in a voice still shaking from crying.
The agent hesitated and then shook his head. “This is bigger than the Hunters. They have hands everywhere. They know you have the books. They saw you on the surveillance footage from the Amaranthine Bookstore. They don’t want anyone asking questions about Purgatory.”
“But Maleficarum don’t exist anymore,” Slade argued. “The Magisterium stopped them.”
Morrison gave him a blank look. “You’re oddly naive for someone who’s been alive for half a millennium. The Magisterium, the Maleficarum, it’s the same thing. Elitist bigots pretending to be ‘for the people’.”
“But you don’t agree with them?” Slade asked skeptically. “How are we supposed to trust you?”
“They boast fairness these days, try to convince people that things have changed, but they haven’t. They don’t like me any more than they like her. I’m not human enough.” His eyes changed, the pupils stretching to points like a cat and the irises turning gold.
Slade took in a sharp breath. “A canaima! Werejaguar.” He muttered the last word to me.
Morrison’s eyes turned back to brown. “They will use your mother as leverage against you if they can. The Magisterium sent me to bring her to an SAU sanctioned safe house, but that’s not where I’m going. To stay off their radar, I’ll have to take Donia off the grid completely. I can’t say when you’ll be able to see her again.”
I looked tearfully to Mom. She held out her hand to tell me to come closer. I rushed to do so, gripping her hand in both of mine but careful not to hold too tightly. Her eyes were red and emotional, though she kept her tears at bay unlike me.<
br />
“I’m so sorry, Mom,” I said weepily. My chest ached so badly. How could I let her go? The Hunters had been a problem for at least 500 years, the Magisterium even longer. What if I never saw her again?
Mom squeezed my hand and sternly met my gaze. “If they’re this worked up about what you’ve been doing, then you’re doing something right. You keep doing what you’re doing. I won’t let them use me.”
Morrison stepped up to the bed. “I’m sorry, but she and I need to be going. We have a long way to go before she’s safe.”
“Thank you for looking after her, Agent Morrison.”
The agent held up a dismissive hand. “Dallevante, but call me Dante.”
“Then thank you, Dante.” I tried to smile, but couldn’t muster it.
***
Peter stirred. He tried to swim to the surface of consciousness, but the water of his mind was thick like sludge, trying to hold him under. It was the tranquilizers, he remembered. His heart began to race as he found his way back to the memory of Adeline’s backyard. Panic fueled his fight to consciousness and he burst awake. He was strapped to a stretcher in the back of an ambulance, rattling around as the vehicle sped down a road. He could hear the sirens blaring up top. Sharp fluorescent light burned his eyes as his vision tried to refocus. One man was with him, donned in heavy gear and clutching a rifle to his chest. His chestnut hair looked polished and shiny like a helmet with how much product held it in its perfectly coiffed shape. He stood against the rear doors, watching Peter with a smug look of dislike.
“Don’t even think about trying anything, canisi,” the man hissed darkly.
The only way they could have known about that is if they knew who he was. Their knowledge of what he was, however, was apparently outdated. If he was gonna get out of this, he would need to keep the man from using his gun. Peter kept himself relaxed to keep the goon’s guard down. He Changed only his left index finger, which was hidden from the man’s view. It grew longer, as cynephi appendages did, and the nail grew hard and thick until it was a claw. Subtly, he began scratching the leather restraint.
“So, was this a last resort career choice or did you always know you wanted to abduct innocent people?” He asked to cover the sound of keratin scraping against leather.
The man scoffed in disgust. “You’re not ‘people’, mongrel.”
“I’m more ‘people’ than you, Helmet Head.” Almost there. “Let me guess, your name is Ken?”
The man rolled his eyes and covered the distance between them with a few clomping steps. Peter knew what was coming, but he was just about through the strap.
“Did your mamma not love you enough? Is that why you gotta be an a—”
The man introduced the butt of his gun to Peter’s gut. Peter recoiled as much as the restraints would allow at the pain. He breathed heavily, feeling his face turn red. Helmet Head leaned over him.
“One more word out of you and I’ll—”
Peter shot his now free hand up and grabbed the man by the throat. His entire arm was now lankier, each finger tipped with a sharp claw. Helmet Head’s eyes bugged and he clutched at Peter’s hand to free his airway to no avail. It no longer mattered if the man saw him break free since Peter had a hold of him. He snapped the other restraints like rubber bands and snatched the gun so H. H. couldn’t use it.
“You’ll what?” Peter hissed through his teeth, holding the man close as he fueled his Change. He stood from the stretcher, growing taller, fur sprouting across his skin, his muzzle stretching, his teeth growing, sharpening. His tee and jeans ripped apart at their seams as his bulk grew too big. His voice grew deeper as his voice box was altered. “I’d like to hear in your most sinister voice what you’ll do.” The man began to shake in Peter’s grip, peering up at Peter towering over him in full cynephi form. Peter held him close and let out a loud echoing roar that drowned out the man’s scream. The ambulance gave a jarring jerk. The driver had obviously heard.
Peter’s substantial weight was thrown into the side of the ambulance and it tipped unsettlingly. It continued to tip until the unpleasant screech of metal scraping against metal stung his ears. The collision somehow popped the doors open, one flopping around in the chaos and the other scraping against the metal railing the ambulance was leaning on. Sparks were flying behind it. Peter and Helmet Head scuffled against the wall until Peter tossed him against the back wall to get him out of the way. He kicked off as the man slumped to the floor, lunging through the back door to freedom. They were on a smallish bridge. The few cars behind them had been stopped by the chaos. Peter swore through his canine muzzle, deep and guttural. He only had one option to avoid further exposure. After a glance to make sure the water wasn’t frozen, he climbed onto the railing and, gritting his teeth, jumped.
***
Something was wrong. I could feel it in my bones. We hadn’t heard from Peter in the hours since the attack. I wrapped my arms around myself, staring out the living room window of Raiden and Slade’s apartment through the slits in the blinds. Halfway across town, Mom’s house was sitting dark and empty, holding the secrets to Peter’s sudden absence. But we couldn’t go back without getting caught ourselves. At least, that’s what the others insisted. Peter being abducted by the Hunters who had undoubtedly come for Lantz was the only explanation. Kendra was on her way to help us find him, but for now, all we could do is wait. Was he okay? Was it already too late to save him? Was he gone, too? I felt so scared.
Fingers grazed my arm and I jumped away, taking in a sharp breath. Raiden drew back and held up his hands apologetically. He looked at me with distress, eyes boring into me and mouth pinched in grief. I realized I was crying again. He reached for me.
“Please don’t,” I begged, taking a step away and drawing my arms tighter around myself. “I don’t want to feel better right now.”
“Okay,” he muttered softly.
I sniffled and moved around him, walking restlessly over to the kitchen. I couldn’t just sit here, not knowing. As I filled a glass with water at the sink, my eye was drawn to the little bowl at the end of the counter closest to the front door where Raiden and Slade kept their car keys. I peered over my shoulder. Raiden was staring out the window where I’d been standing. Slade and Nikki were sitting silently on the couch, also not facing my way.
I downed my glass of water and then set it in the sink below the faucet stream to fill again. The sound covered the jingle of keys as I removed a set from the bowl. Another glance over my shoulder told me no one had noticed. I pocketed the keys and stepped lightly over to the front door. Ever-so-gently, I twisted the doorknob and eased the door open. I slipped through. No one said anything. No one noticed. I eased the door closed again and rotated the knob back to its resting position.
Peter needed help and it was my fault that he’d stayed behind. I needed to go back for him but I couldn’t ask the others to risk themselves with these people.
***
Peter broke through the surface of the water, drawing greedy breaths into his burning lungs. He’d stayed under the water and swam to the other side of the bridge before surfacing. Even through his fur, the water felt unbelievably cold and his body ached from the height he’d dived from. At least the flow of the river was calm here, wherever here was. Peter paddled through the water to the shore and sprinted clumsily into the cover of trees before collapsing to the ground and Changing back. His skin heated up as it reabsorbed the fur it had created for his transformation, leaving him in nothing but his super stretchy underwear. He breathed deeply, his chest heaving up and down as he calmed himself. Police sirens wailed in the distance, coming to aid the “ambulance”.
He had to get moving before either guy came to find him. Reluctantly, he rolled his tired body over and pushed himself up. The trees provided some cover on his brisk hike. He followed the road back to civilization. They’d just passed Lincoln, heading north through the White Mountain Forest. Lincoln was a really small town. Peter found his way to the middle of t
own in a few minutes. He kept to the sidewalk, unsure what to do. He’d hoped to find someone to ask for help, but no one was out in the middle of the night.
He padded barefoot down the snow-powdered sidewalk. This street was full of shops, windows all dark. He kept his arms wrapped around his shivering chest for some semblance of warmth. It was a small relief compared to the stress and fear of the evening. Suddenly, his negative emotions overwhelmed him, tightening his throat and making his chest ache. He prayed that Adeline and her mom were okay; That Donia had lived.
Peter lowered himself down, sitting beneath the overhang of a roof where there was no snow on the sidewalk. In a few minutes, he would get up and find a house to knock at, ask to borrow a phone or something. For now, he needed to rest and calm down. His teeth chattered and he huddled against his knees, placing his palms over his toes in an attempt to thaw them. What would he do if Donia was gone? How could he and the others possibly help Adeline cope with losing her last parent to the same murderer after over a decade? How would he apologize for his role in losing Lantz? He wallowed so hard that he didn’t hear when someone stepped out of one of the shops nearby.
“You okay there, son?”
Peter jumped back, bracing himself against the sidewalk.
A dark-skinned man had fixed him with concerned eyes, halfway through locking the door to his shop. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Name’s Terry. Are you okay?”
Peter thought fast. “I, uh…I was camping and…this bear…this is all I got away with.”
The man unlocked the shop door. “Come on inside. I’ve got a phone and some clothes in the lost-and-found,” he said.