Anomaly

by Scott Prussing

  “Are they dangerous?”

  Kai looks at me, his expression serious. “Very. They are among the most dangerous hunters from my world.” His somber tone matches the look on his face.

  I glance up again. It’s hard to believe those two black specks could be that much of a threat to us.

  “There’s only two,” I say. “We’ve got almost forty soldiers here. Are we really in that much danger?”

  “Even two would be a concern,” Kai replies. “But wyverns rarely hunt in such small numbers. They usually attack in packs of a score or more. Those two are only scouts. The rest will not be far away.”

  Even as Kai is speaking, the two creatures cease circling and zoom away to the east.

  “Are they gone?” I ask hopefully.

  “They will be back, with the rest of their pack,” Kai says. “I need to talk to your father immediately.”

  Without waiting, Kai strides forward toward my Dad, who has been walking with Lieutenant Gregerson near the front of our group just a short distance ahead. I hurry after Kai. I want to hear what he says.

  “Colonel, you need to call all your men back to the main group immediately,” Kai tells Dad.

  Hearing the urgency in Kai’s voice, Dad doesn’t hesitate. He dispatches three men to summon the flanking parties and the advance guard back on the double. Only then does he question Kai.

  “What is it?” he asks. “What’s happening?”

  “Two wyverns circled overhead a few moments ago,” Kai replies. “They’ll be back with their fellows, sooner rather than later. There’s no time to try to find shelter, so you need to prepare. Your bullets will be of no use against them.”

  “Why not?” Lieutenant Gregerson asks. “Are their hides that thick?”

  “Their scales are thick, yes, that’s not why,” Kai says. “When wyverns attack, they’re able to partially dematerialize their bodies for a few moments. My people call it “xyn.” You’ll still see them, but they will be almost like ghosts. Your bullets will pass right through them.”

  “What about flamethrowers?” Dad asks.

  Kai shakes his head. “In their xyn state, you cannot not burn them, either.”

  I’m really not liking the sound of this xyn thing. I had no idea wyverns possessed such an ability. It just shows that you can’t learn everything you need to know from books. I hope Kai has a plan.

  “How do we fight them, then?” Dad asks.

  Kai looks up to the eastern sky before replying. We all follow his gaze. So far, there’s no sign of the returning wyvern pack.

  “There’s one thing in our favor,” Kai says. “To complete their attack, the wyvern must abandon xyn and revert to their solid shape. Otherwise, their teeth and claws would pass right through our bodies. So there will be a very brief moment, right before they rip into you, when they are vulnerable. You’ll hear a crackling sound when they leave xyn. Here’s what we must do.”

  Dad gathers the entire company into a tight formation around us, so that everyone can hear. We all listen closely as Kai explains his plan. It sounds awfully risky to me, but I don’t see that we have much choice. The wyverns pose a unique challenge.

  The faces of the Marines nearest me appear grim and resolute. I can’t say the same for my friends, though—they all look as anxious as I feel. Of all their Powers, only Plush’s will be of much use against this foe. We don’t know if her telekinesis will work against the wyvern while they are in xyn, but as soon as they re-solidify she’ll be able to use her Power to push any attacker back at least a little bit. That should give her guardians a bigger window in which to strike. The rest of us will have to trust to perfect timing.

  “Here they come!” Lieutenant Gregerson shouts, pointing off to the east.

  We all look. As Kai predicted, there are at least two dozen of the creatures now. They’re flying much lower than before, a couple of hundred feet high at most, streaking straight toward us.

  As Kai ordered, the whole company drops to the ground, lying prone. The closer to the ground we are, he told us, the more the wyverns will have to slow their descent at the end to reach us. Our whole plan depends on them slowing down enough.

  The soldiers have let go of their guns. Those who have swords are gripping them at their sides; the rest are holding their spears flat along the ground. For one of the few times in my life, I wish I had a sword instead of a machete. My blade’s lack of a point renders it useless for this particular defense, so I leave it sheathed on my back. Instead, I grip my new spear tightly.

  Kai is lying next to me, holding his sword in his right hand. His bow and several arrows lay on the ground beside him, ready for quick use if needed. His left hand rests reassuringly on my shoulder. If it wasn’t for the rapidly approaching flying monsters that want to make us their dinner, lying like this with Kai would quite enjoyable. My Dad is stretched out behind me, guarding me from that side.

  “Don’t worry, Leah,” Kai says softly into my ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Despite the imminent threat, somehow I believe him. His quiet confidence—and the way he’s handled every situation so far—are very reassuring. My grip on my spear loosens slightly. I’m glad to be surrounded by tough Marines, but I’m even happier to have Kai so close beside me.

  Lifting my head slightly, I glance over Kai’s shoulder and catch Radar’s eye. She’s lying tight against Jordy’s wide back, but her head is twisted around toward me. I can’t believe it, but she flashes me a smile. Maybe she feels the same way about Jordy protecting her that I do about Kai guarding me, or maybe she’s just enjoying this shit—with Radar, it’s difficult to know.

  Each of the other Miracles is flanked by at least two Marines. The soldiers’ greater bulk will make them the more likely targets, further protecting my friends. I’m looking toward Sneak when he winks out of sight. Kai told us the wyvern hunt mostly by sight, so by becoming invisible, Sneak is unlikely to become a target. Lights is lying close beside Plush, so he’ll benefit from her Power. The rest of us will have to depend on the men protecting us. And maybe on our weapons, but I sure hope it doesn’t come down to that.

  The wyverns circle above us for a few moments, sizing up their prey perhaps. They’re still too high for me to make out any details, but I can tell that they’re bigger than a man, maybe nine to ten feet in length. When spread out, their membranous wings are at least as wide as the creatures are long. I can’t see any sky behind the creatures, but their forms do somehow seem to be less substantial, less solid, than they should, especially the wings.

  A moment later, they all fold their huge wings in close to their bodies and dive toward us.

  The wyverns attack silently. The only sound is the muffled roar of the air rushing over their folded wings. As they hurtle closer, I realize I’m holding my breath, so I force myself to exhale.

  One of the beasts is streaking directly toward Kai and me. It’s close enough now that I can see three wicked-looking talons curving down from its feet. Each claw looks as long and sharp as a dagger. The rows of yellow teeth in its partially open jaw are not quite as big, but they seem equally sharp and no less deadly.

  When the wyvern is less than a dozen feet above us, it suddenly spreads its wings, slowing its descent just as Kai had promised. A moment later, I hear a crackling sound, like the air has suddenly become filled with static electricity. The creature’s body immediately seems thicker, more solid, as the xyn thing ends. The wyvern really does look like a small cousin to a dragon. Thank goodness they don’t breathe fire. I’m not sure how we would deal with that.

  Kai reacts instantly to the crackling sound, rolling up onto his knees and stabbing his sword upward into the wyvern’s vulnerable underbelly. The monster lets out an agonized shriek as the blade sinks to hilt. I thrust upward with my spear, a second or two behind Kai. The skin of the creature’s belly is tough and leathery, but the tip of my spear punctures it just below the throat. It’s Kai’s sword that does the real damage, though.


  Using all his amazing strength, Kai grips his sword in both hands and rips the blade down the length of the wyvern’s body, splitting it open and disemboweling it. Sticky green ichor sprays over us as the monster falls dead to the ground beside us. As I yank my spear from its throat, the wyvern’s foul stench assails my nostrils. It’s a sickening, rotten odor, a combination of the beast’s gross insides and the rotting meat stuck between its claws and teeth. Bile rises up into my throat, and I put my hand over my mouth and nose to keep from gagging.

  The shrieks of dying wyverns and the cries of wounded men echo over battlefield. Kai ignores the stench and the sticky green ichor coating his skin and grabs his bow. As he quickly notches an arrow to the bowstring, I see why. A hundred feet away, a wyvern is lifting off from the ground with a screaming Marine dangling from its talons. Kai doesn’t hesitate. He lets his arrow fly. Before the missile can even strike its target, he fires a second arrow. Both of them pierce the wyvern’s left wing and then embed themselves in the creature’s side, pinning the wing against the beast’s body. Unable to flap the wing, the wyvern twists sideways and crashes to the ground. Still holding the soldier pinioned on its claws, the monster opens its fearsome jaws to bite into its helpless prey.

  Private Pendergrass is the nearest Marine to where the wyvern tumbled to earth. He grabs his rifle and races toward the reptile, thrusting the weapon into the beast’s gaping mouth and letting loose a long blast of gunfire before the monster can chomp down on the wounded soldier. The fusillade of bullets tears into the monster’s brain, ripping it to shreds. The creature collapses dead to the ground.

  Gunfire echoes from several places now as the Marines use their rifles to finish off wounded wyverns. Of the more than two dozen who attacked, only two have managed to fly away, and neither of them is carrying a victim. Kai fits another arrow to his bow, but then lowers it.

  “Wyverns are intelligent, and very territorial,” he tells me. “They will have to fly far to find a new pack, which may or may not accept them. Either way, they will know better than to attack us again.”

  As I watch the deadly creatures fly off into the distance, I’m very glad to hear that.

  Our victory over the monsters has not been without cost. Four Marines and one seaman lie dead upon the ground, their bodies mangled by the wyverns’ claws and teeth. At least another half-dozen have been wounded, three very seriously. No Miracles have been hurt, though.

  Doc is already kneeling over the most grievously wounded soldier, the one Kai saved by shooting down the wyvern with his arrows. A soft yellow glow envelops the man’s upper torso as Doc uses her Power to heal three deep gashes ripped across his chest by the creature’s talons. When she’s done healing him, she hurries over to the next injured man and begins the process all over again. Fellow Marines tend to the less seriously hurt soldiers, stopping any bleeding with field bandages until Doc can get to them. By the time she’s done, she’s going to be one exhausted Miracle—but that won’t stop her, I know.

  As I survey the carnage, I whisper a silent prayer of thanks to whoever sent Kai into our world to rescue me. Without his special knowledge of the wyverns’ powers, I fear the outcome of this battle would have been different—very, very different.

  CHAPTER 28

  DOC’S MIRACULOUS HEALING POWER allows us to be back on our way as soon as the Marines have finished burying their fallen comrades. Thanks to Doc, the wounded men are now as fit and healthy as they were prior to the attack. Before we leave, Dad says a few poignant words over the makeshift graves of the fallen soldiers, praising their service and their sacrifice. After a chorus of “amen’s” and “semper fi’s” we set out north along the highway again. I think every one of us is anxious to leave this place of death behind.

  In addition to the scattered houses we pass, another clue that we’re approaching civilization—if there’s any civilization left up here—is the increasing number of highway signs and even a few billboards that we see. Most of the signs are rusted, bent and twisted, if not knocked down completely, and the billboards are in tatters from the years of weather and neglect. Two of the signs were damaged by Anomalies, Radar tells us. None of them were recent, though, so we have nothing to worry about there.

  One road sign grabs my attention. It’s green with what used to be a white border that is now mostly brown, and the metal pole is leaning sideways at a forty-five degree angle. The sign part looks like it’s been raked by four giant claws. Still, I can make out the two cities listed: Monterey and San Francisco. I’ve heard of Monterey from a John Steinbeck book—I don’t recall the name of the book, but I remember that I liked it. The sign informs us that the quaint coastal town is 7 miles away, though I doubt there’s much “quaint” left there. Still, we can easily reach the town’s border by sundown and will probably be able to find shelter of some kind to spend the night. If we do, sleeping indoors will be a refreshing change.

  San Francisco is listed as only 19 miles, but that’s because one of the claw marks has obliterated what must have been the first 1. So that means we’re 119 miles from our destination. That’s still a pretty long walk ahead of us to be sure, but one I know we’ve got plenty of time left to make before the twenty-first.

  Even though Kai has assured me the wyverns will not be back, it’s hard to keep myself from glancing upward every few moments. Luckily, the sky remains blue and empty, just the way I like it. As the afternoon wanes, I find myself looking up less and less often.

  Gradually, the highway becomes less like a passage through a wilderness and more like a road where people once lived. Empty cars parked along the side become more frequent, and small clumps of houses now sit near the roadway. We stroll past isolated gas stations, convenience stores and small strip malls. The only thing we don’t see is people.

  As the area along the highway grows more and more developed, we become even more cautious, keeping alert for anyone or anything that might be hiding in, behind, or even on top of the nearby structures. Still, we see nothing. As far as we can tell, we’re alone here, which is just fine with me. More than fine, even.

  When the sun is just a few degrees above the western horizon, our troop turns into the parking lot of a large CVS drugstore. The big red V on the front of the building hangs at an awkward angle and the S has disappeared. The slightly smaller PHARMACY part of the sign is still intact. The glass in what were once sliding glass doors is gone completely and the metal door frames are bent. Even so, the building could still provide shelter, and I’m guessing Dad is thinking of spending the night inside.

  While most of us rest outside, sitting on the concrete walkway in front of the store and leaning against the wall, Dad sends a patrol into the store to make sure the place is empty. A dozen Marines remain standing at the ready outside while the remainder sit and rest. We Miracles all sit side by side, but we’ve been walking together and chatting all day so there’s really nothing of importance to share now.

  It doesn’t take long for the patrol to return and inform Dad that the store is empty, with no sign anyone has been inside in a very long time. That’s all we need to hear—at Dad’s orders, the company funnels inside through the missing front doors.

  Except for a few sections, the rows of dirty white metal and wood shelves are mostly empty. The layer of gray dust covering everything tells us no one has been inside the store in quite some time. There are still some greeting cards and envelopes—now yellowed with age—in the stationary area, and the makeup section contains a few lonely items. But anything useful for survival, like food, medicine and first aid items, have been completely cleaned out. There’s no sign this store was looted—no damage to the shelves, no broken bottles or other trash littering the aisle. It looks like the place was systematically emptied of its supplies as needed by local residents back in the days following The Incident.

  Dad sets a dozen Marines to work breaking down the shelves and then forming them into a barricade to protect us from any attack through the front
door. A similar barricade is constructed in front of the metal doors that lead back to the stock room in the rear. The rest of us begin claiming floor space in the now mostly empty center of the store.

  I sit down against a small wooden counter that the soldiers have left in place. Radar plops down next to me. Kai hovers nearby, but he doesn’t sit.

  I watch as he stands motionless for a few seconds and then paces back and forth in front of us. He seems very uneasy. I hope it’s just that he doesn’t like enclosed spaces and not that his instincts are warning him of some imminent danger.

  “Is everything okay, Kai?” I ask when he passes in front of me during one of his pacing periods.

  He stops. “I think so. I’m not used to being inside like this. It’s uncomfortable for me.”

  “We’re safer in here than outside, aren’t we?” Radar asks him.

  Kai looks at the makeshift wall the Marines are constructing and then at the large front windows.

  “Yeah, we are,” he replies. “Just as long as we don’t use any light to draw attention to ourselves.”

  It’s already growing dim inside the store as sunset creeps nearer. I don’t know how much ambient light will filter in through the front windows at night, but I’m guessing not much. It’s going to be pretty dark in here, and sooner rather than later. If we need to avoid using any light, then I need to tell Dad now.

  Kai obviously has the same thought. “I’m going to talk to your father,” he says.

  He spins away and crosses to the front barrier, where Dad is supervising the positioning of the shelves and racks. I watch them converse for a few moments. The discussion ends with Dad nodding his head.

  He calls his men together in the center of the store. “No lights tonight unless absolutely necessary,” he orders. “And even then, make sure you cover it with something. What might seem dim to you may be bright to some of the creatures roaming the night, so we need to err on the side of caution. ” He turns to Lieutenant Gregerson. “Lieutenant, inform the sentries of my orders.”