Capes

by Drabble, Matt

  The liquid in the huge upright tubes probably wasn’t water given the thickness of it, but he hoped that it would be conductive.

  He worked quickly with his sharpest blade to strip off the protective covering from a bunch of wires that ran out of the tubes. The power wasn’t currently on down here but he didn’t need it yet.

  He found an opening valve on one of the tubes and gently pried it loose letting the liquid run out onto the basement floor. He quickly followed suit on the others until there was a large pool of tube substance pooled on the ground.

  The gentle dripping, although slight, was still enough to be heard by keen ears, and he knew that it would attract their uninvited guest’s attention sooner or later.

  He ignored the demanding frantic waving of the others to try and get his attention and explain himself as he set the naked wiring down in the liquid as the rest of them jumped back out of the wet goo, but he ignored them again and stepped around the mess and moved back to the blocked exit door.

  In truth, he had freed the door a little while ago, but he hadn’t wanted the others to start fleeing like scared sheep announcing their position before he had a plan in place.

  The first naturally occurring thought to hit him, of course, had been to use the others as a bait and distraction combo while he slipped away, but those kind of thoughts had become interestingly rarer over the past few days. Maybe he was growing, changing, or maybe he was just ill; perhaps humanity was a contagious disease.

  Finally, he was set, and just in time as he could hear the building groan as the beast lowered itself down onto the floor above. It had found them.

  He quickly motioned for the others to head for the door but to hold there; fortunately, Link understood his hand gestures because Jamie-Lyn had given him a flapping hand signal with a shrug of both shoulders as if to say ‘what the hell are you talking about?’

  Link led them, much to CJ’s annoyance, as he tried to argue in silence that he should be the one to stay.

  Crimson had to admire the alien’s guts for once. He had always been of the same opinion as Jamie-Lyn that charging into gunfire when you were bulletproof wasn’t exactly a sign of bravery.

  CJ had always been the beholder of power. As far as Crimson knew, nothing could hurt him, and he should know because he’d spent a lot of time checking.

  The idea that the government would let a walking nuclear weapon just stroll around without any kind of contingency plan was laughably naive. But despite all of his own studies on the battlefield, he had yet to see CJ be vulnerable, until now.

  Someone had found a way to neutralise the alien and it was something in this basement. Some kind of tech device was dampening the alien’s abilities, and Crimson would have given anything to find it. Power over the most powerful being on the planet? He hadn’t grown that much to not want it for himself. The trouble was that he was out of time – they all were.

  Link was the last one to head to the door, the flash drive held triumphantly in his hand. The others looked excited that he may have answers to their problems, a way back to their normal lives, but all Crimson saw was a drive full of secrets, powerful secrets, and before this was over, he’d have the real prize.

  He held up a finger to his lips to show the rest to be silent and then shooed them out of the door while he waited behind.

  To her credit, Jamie-Lyn motioned for him to follow and he liked her a little for that. She always had seen the best in people, but this was no sacrifice on his part. He intended to live.

  Once they were clear, he slid over to the propane canisters and opened them all up, knowing that the slight hiss of gas would be enough to get their friend’s attention. He was right.

  The opening in the ceiling was only large enough for people to enter one at a time. The beast was far too large, but that didn’t stop it.

  There was a huge roar and suddenly half of the ceiling came crashing down as the beast smashed through it.

  Despite the dim light in the basement, Crimson now got the first close-up look at the thing that had been hunting them.

  It wasn’t as big as he’d been expecting, standing only a few inches taller than him, but then again, people had said the same about him for years and he’d always proved them wrong.

  The wolflike snout and face stared into him and he knew instantly that its yellow eyes saw perfectly fine in the dark. Two furry, red, apelike long arms were tipped with razor claws and he could easily picture this thing burrowing through solid earth and rock without breaking a nail.

  It moved slowly, and he could feel it sizing him up as its sinewy muscles tightened under red fur on top of a thick hide.

  “Well now,” he said as they looked each other over. “Aren’t you just a big old ugly bastard?”

  The beast watched him and he kept their gazes locked. He had no idea of the thing’s intelligence and was in no mood to underestimate his foe. He knew that he didn’t stand a chance in hand-to-hand combat, or any other kind of combat for that matter; he just prayed that this thing was as dumb as it was powerful.

  The air was filling up with gas fast and he tried to do a quick calculation in his head to decide if there was enough to do the job.

  Slowly, he edged his way to the door as the beast watched him, and he wondered if it was toying with him. Toying would imply a level of cognitive thought, one that could affect his choices.

  The rear door was half open and Crimson took a slow step towards it and then another.

  The beast tilted its huge head and then did something that chilled Crimson to the bone: it opened its jaws, and a great rumble came out and filled the room with its noise. It was laughing.

  Crimson took another step and the beast allowed him to, even motioning towards it with one of its claws. It wanted him to run.

  He took the mocking personally. Whatever this thing was, wherever it had come from and quite why it had been made, it clearly did not know just who it was fucking with.

  Crimson broke for the door and covered the last few paces in a blur. In one fluid movement, he dived through and then behind the door, twisting his body in midair and throwing a small dagger before he landed. His eyes met the beast’s when the dagger left his hand. The animal’s expression sneered at him as the blade missed its head, but of course that had never been the target.

  The dagger struck home on the power switch to the basement level and did two things. First, it sent a surge of electricity through the upright tubes and down the stripped wires into the liquid that the beast was standing in. The electricity pinned the beast to the ground as it roared in pain, momentarily trapped.

  The other thing that happened was that the sparks ignited the gas in the basement with a huge explosion.

  All of this happened in an instant, but Crimson functioned at speeds far greater than a normal person. This allowed him to position his body behind the door to take the full brunt of the blast. It also gave him a split second to flip up his middle finger before he ducked out of sight.

  The explosion sent him spinning backwards. His hands gripped either side of the door and he managed to twist himself in midair, turning the door over so that when he landed, the door hit the snow first with him on top.

  Maybe back in the day, he’d have managed the manoeuvre with ease, landing on his feet and surfing that puppy down the hill, but now he came crashing down hard and his head smashed into the metal door, making him see stars and taste blood.

  The door slid like a toboggan, gathering speed down the hill, and he just about managed to look up to see the base being rocked by multiple explosions as the rest of the building went up as the fire reached the upper levels and found more flammables to engulf.

  By the time that the door was crawling to a halt, he was barely conscious and couldn’t see whose boot it was that finally brought him to a full stop.

  Looking up through bleary eyes, he could see that the boot’s owner was Link.

  “You okay?” the man asked him.

  Crimson struggl
ed to sit up but managed it with the other man’s help.

  “Give me a sec,” he croaked before vomiting violently over the side of his door into the snow.

  “Better?” The other man grinned.

  Crimson wanted to say something pithy or insulting back, but by the time he had thought of a response, his mouth was full of vomit again.

  “You think that killed it?” Jamie-Lyn asked as she walked over to stand next to him, her attention still on the top of the hill.

  The base was out of sight now, but the high drifting smoke told a tale of total destruction.

  “I’m not sure anything can kill it,” Crimson said as he spat his mouth clear. “But I’m hoping that I slowed it down at least.”

  “Town’s back this way.” Jesus pointed.

  “You sure that’s a good idea?” Jamie-Lyn asked. “I mean, the good people there did just try to kill us.”

  “Well we’ve got a town that way,” Jesus said, pointing again. “Or else a whole lot of frozen nothingness that way,” he said, pointing in the opposite direction.

  “I say we take our chances in town.” Link nodded. “With a bit of luck, everyone that wanted us dead will already be dead. And with a bit more luck, someone will have a computer that we can use to go through the drive with. The way I see it, that’s our best hope. We can’t just keep running. The world’s not big enough.”

  “Then we better get to it, if you’re okay to?” Jesus asked Crimson.

  “Are you?” he asked, looking at the man’s pale face.

  Jesus had lost a fair amount of blood from his neck wound and he needed medical attention; the only saving grace right now was the subzero temperatures that were at least numbing the wound.

  “I’ll live,” Jesus replied.

  “You’ve got a lot of your old man in you.” Crimson nodded weakly. “He’d have been proud.”

  “Well, this is all super awkward,” Link said into the long pause that followed.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Jamie-Lyn asked Crimson.

  “I’m fine,” he responded with a lot more surety than he felt. “Let’s go.”

  ----------

  The hike back to town took an age and Jamie-Lyn didn’t like the look of either Jesus or Crimson.

  Jesus’ wounds were explicable for a normal man, but Crimson was not a normal man.

  She had witnessed plenty of his exploits on the battlefield, several times a little too close for her liking. The man wasn’t invulnerable despite his heightened senses and reflexes, but whenever he’d been hurt back in the day, his enhanced healing had kicked in, meaning he barely slowed down when wounded. Now, however, he had yet to bounce back from the explosion.

  He was walking with a pronounced limp, and there were multiple cuts across his face that had yet to close. Whatever natural ageing had done to him, it had also seemingly started to overcome his abilities. The past couple of weeks may well have emptied his tank leaving him empty.

  “CJ?” she asked. “How are you feeling?”

  “Better…, I think,” he said, opening his hands and seeing a hint of green glow return. “Hopefully, it’s just temporary, but I’m afraid we’re stuck on foot for now.”

  By the time that they made it back to the motel on the outskirts of town, they were all exhausted and the elements had taken a heavy toll. She could only hope that they weren’t about to face a fight as none of them were in any condition to go another ten rounds with anyone.

  Mercifully, there was no greeting committee of hooded, robed figures with ceremonial axes to welcome them back, and they limped and shuffled their way into the main building.

  “Crimson?” Link asked as they reached the outer doors.

  Crimson placed a supporting hand on the wooden frame and eased the door open a fraction. He ducked his head inside and listened intently for a few moments.

  “I think we’re clear,” he said tiredly.

  “You think?” Jesus exclaimed.

  “I…, I just need a moment here,” Crimson said as he sagged against the door, looking like he was about ready to collapse.

  “Then think will have to do,” CJ replied as he stepped forwards and pushed the door open, ushering them all inside.

  The warmth of the building struck them immediately, and it was a welcome relief from the frozen harshness outside.

  “I’m not sure I’m ever going to feel my toes again,” Jamie-Lyn said, stamping her feet.

  “We should get moving,” Link said pointedly. “If Crimson’s right about the beast, then we don’t know how long we’ve got before he shows up again.”

  “The office is over there.” Jamie-Lyn pointed to a door behind the reception desk. “I’m guessing we’ll find what we need there.”

  They all started to move towards it when it opened and a man stepped out.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Jesus exclaimed.

  “Looking for you,” the man replied.

  “You shouldn’t have come, Derek. I told you not to look for me.”

  “I had to. I couldn’t stay away. You should know that by now.”

  Jesus rushed forwards and into the man’s embrace. The two men hugged and kissed each other fiercely, and Jesus started to cry a little.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, turning around to face the rest of them. “This is my fiancé, Derek Francis,” he said, holding onto the other man’s hand tightly.

  “It’s nice to meet you all,” Derek replied with a warm smile. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “And we’ve heard… well, I’m afraid that we haven’t heard anything about you,” CJ said formally.

  “Are you all okay?” Derek asked. “Oh my God, sweetheart, you’re hurt,” he said as he gently turned Jesus’ head to one side and looked at the mass of dried blood there.

  “I’m okay. Better now,” Jesus replied, squeezing his fiancé’s hand.

  “There’s a first-aid kit in the kitchen back there,” Derek said, pointing behind him further into the building. “Mr Jones?”

  “You can call me CJ.”

  “Okay then, CJ. Would you mind doing the whole zappy thing and fetching it real quick?”

  “Alas, I’m afraid that my zapping ability is rather under the weather right now.”

  “Really?” Derek asked. “Have you got any powers?”

  “Not at the present, but I’m feeling them returning, albeit at a slower rate than I’d like.”

  “Wow, that sucks.”

  “Oh, I shall be fine.”

  “Sucks for Jesus, I meant.”

  The gunshots were muffled and no one saw them coming, not even Crimson in his weakened state.

  The bullets punched into Jesus’ back as Derek held his fiancé with one hand while the hidden pistol fired from his other.

  Jesus slipped from his grasp, and he allowed the man to fall onto the ground, his face creased in pain and confusion.

  “Disgusting pervert,” Mason said as he kicked Jesus’ body hard on the ground. “The things we have to do for the greater cause,” he said to the group as he straightened himself out in all senses of the word.

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is not important, but our leader is, and she is looking forward to meeting you all again.”

  “He’s SOUL,” Crimson said as he started to move, more on instinct than ability.

  Jesus’ secret fiancé, Derek Francis, was actually Mason Thomas, Cynthia Arrow’s undercover Number Two and he now gave out a loud whistle.

  Several black-combat dressed and heavily armed men came suddenly rushing into the motel’s foyer and surrounded them in an instant before Jesus gave out his last breath and died on the floor.

  “Don’t!” Jamie-Lyn said, grabbing Crimson’s arm as she felt him start to move. “You don’t stand a chance, not right now.”

  “A wise woman.” Mason laughed. “Perhaps you should listen… or not. My orders are that only one of you is not to be harmed; I’m sure that you can guess who.”


  “I will go with you,” CJ replied. “You can let the others go. They mean nothing to you or your mistress and her cause.”

  “Orders are orders, demon, and I shall not listen to them from the likes of you,” Mason replied, looking as though simply addressing CJ was painful for him.

  “So we’ll go,” Jamie-Lyn said quickly. “All of us. But this man,” she said, pointing to Link, “he’s just a local who works at the resort. He has no place in this. He is just a God-fearing man like you. Why don’t you just send him home to his family. You have us; you have what you came for.”

  “Oh, I’m afraid that Mr Link is invited too,” Mason replied pleasantly.

  “Well I guess that I’m not so anonymous anymore,” Link said.

  “So let us get going while this foul monster is powerless,” Mason said with a motioning arm towards the door and back out into the snow.

  “We’re driving somewhere?” Jamie-Lyn asked.

  “God provides when you are on his mission, child. We came by the air and we shall now soar back to his arms and back to glory.”

  “He means a helicopter,” Link said to Jamie-Lyn.

  “Mr Link?” Mason smiled coldly. “I can categorically assure you, no one likes a smartarse.”

  ----------

  chapter 39

  SETTING THE STAGE

  The chopper ride was mechanically loud but filled with silent voices as the two sides of the line took their places inside the metal bird with only one of them victorious while the other was marking another loss on the scorecard.

  Jamie-Lyn looked around at their captors: combat-clad men and women all wearing face-hiding balaclavas and all heavily armed. The figures were all sat at the far end of the cargo bay watching their prisoners carefully but unnervingly motionless.

  When they had been ushered compliantly aboard, Crimson had spotted a splash of red on the cockpit walls. After that, he had led the way without fuss, and a flash of his eyes had told them to follow suit. No doubt someone else had recently not followed orders and paid the ultimate price.